Lament

by Zbigniew Herbert

Zbigniew Herbert

To the memory of my mother

And now she has over her head brown clouds of roots
a slim lily of salt on the temples beads of sand
while she sails on the bottle of a boat through foaming nebulas

A mile beyond us where the river turns
visible-invisible as the light on a wave
truly she isn't different—abandoned like all of us.





Last updated September 05, 2017