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Love at First Sight" o& \- q: [# \4 a3 G: g
by Wislawa Szymborska
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' e6 N6 |) i1 ] @7 H# M+ d2 R LThey both thought
' @2 ]6 p$ N; ~# l$ q7 rthat a sudden feeling had united them2 n/ }7 [7 l" `8 Y
This certainty is beautiful,! S. N& j. a; Y8 y$ H
Even more beautiful than uncertainty.
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They thought they didn't know each other, o: _: Y9 t8 Z0 ?- D
nothing had ever happened between them,
8 v8 P- F6 D) @# XThese streets, these stairs, this corridors,
" S- O! P" t0 v4 Y5 S. NWhere they could have met so long ago?
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6 _6 d; V2 y4 k) wI would like to ask them,
8 n0 S7 e3 }% S* V: C1 @if they can remember -
: a$ V8 ^+ V- D2 bperhaps in a revolving door
0 [2 f- X8 n. f; u- U+ J1 `face to face one day?
2 S8 A& K" h9 B. i, K4 Q( BA "sorry" in the crowd?
6 J( q1 V6 @! Y"Wrong number" on the 'phone?
+ X1 N; ^; S: b4 z; s }- but I know the answer.
+ i( w* U" ]$ K3 r# C3 X) O3 q, SNo, they don't remember.5 c9 A% K7 Q5 z4 {0 a
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How surprised they would be- Y- {9 C( Y g; _* d( K# _' R
For such a long time already# g- f/ Q/ V: O5 l/ E- T8 ]" H5 \
Fate has been playing with them.
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Not quite yet ready. w$ q& S+ r% Y6 B, N7 O
to change into destiny,! m, b% |4 l% r9 S8 e/ q( z
which brings them nearer and yet further,
- n6 D: V: S% }! f1 \cutting their path$ r, a5 c: x* l z( {
and stifling a laugh,
* |6 j% ]& \8 [6 I" pescaping ever further;
: w& J/ k& R5 z$ ^There were sings, indications,
8 W( _# x: _. j6 Z' U. oundecipherable, what does in matter.
) E7 Y/ a/ j! l- v/ Y8 D1 u* U2 `: qThree years ago, perhaps, L+ V, K, i5 \
or even last Tuesday,
/ r/ [# A$ X; o: Y4 \" |! J4 Athis leaf flying
6 t, P5 ?$ x* W: D, p, K7 U( Z0 N& vfrom one shoulder to another?
/ K8 t& {( l& tSomething lost and gathered.
0 C) S8 w8 k7 n" g4 K$ ZWho knows, perhaps a ball already
+ ^0 R$ h$ H! rin the bushes, in childhood?$ N/ b+ h$ O4 F7 Q! w2 g; w+ K! |
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There were handles, door bells,: P& a1 `& T8 }5 _/ m
where, on the trace of a hand,5 Y5 l+ h2 z; h( B$ J
another hand was placed;
4 }) O; C- P4 v' u3 @& e8 bsuitcases next to one another in the; p; ^ J9 Y5 ?+ J3 n; J
left luggage.
. v( S( p# L% U1 S4 s0 ~5 ]# fAnd maybe one night the same dream9 x" _ M1 K* { [) o" I
forgotten on walking;- r4 A4 n$ h8 M2 ~8 G$ E
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But every beginning' e9 L5 ?4 _4 Y
is only a continuation9 k2 n+ l: K1 _ G* q
and the book of fate is
( r# p$ A' U0 E% R: ^/ ? @# zalways open in the middle.
0 n5 @( v% p2 p# I+ R) M" KTranslation from Polish by Roman Gren/ @% A0 f# l: g |% h
Translation from French by Sarah Hardenberg |
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