"A Life"

I was a quiet boy a little sleepy and--amazingly-- unlike my peers--who were fond of adventures-- I didn't expect much--didn't look out the window At school more diligent than able--docile stable

Then a normal life at the level of a regular clerk up early street tram office again tram home sleep

I truly don't know why I'm tired uneasy in torment perpetually even now--when I have a right to rest

I know I never rose high--I have no achievements I collected stamps medicinal herbs was O.K. at chess

I went abroad once--on a holiday to the Black Sea in the photo a straw hat tanned face--almost happy

I read what came to hand: about scientific socialism about flights into space and machines that can think and the thing I liked most: books on the life of bees

Like others I wanted to know what I'd be after death whether I'd get a new apartment if life had meaning

And above all how to tell the good from what's evil to know for sure what is white and what's all black

Someone recommended a classic work--as he said it changed his life and the lives of millions of others I read it--I didn't change--and I'm ashamed to admit for the life of me I don't remember the classic's name

Maybe I didn't live but endured--cast against my will into something hard to govern and impossible to grasp a shadow on a wall so it was not a life a life up to the hilt

How could I explain to my wife or to anyone else that I summoned all my strength so as not to commit stupidities cede to insinuation not to fraternize with the strongest

It's true--I was always pale. Average. At school in the Army in the office at home and at parties

Now I'm in the hospital dying of old age. Here is the same uneasiness and torment. Born a second time perhaps I'd be better.

I wake at night in a sweat. Stare at the ceiling. Silence. And again--one more time--with a bone-weary arm I chase off the bad spirits and summon the good ones.

--Zbigniew Herbert (translated, from the Polish, by Alissa Valles)