the archivist July 8, 2014

Here’s a little Web 1.0 curiosity that for some reason always manages to stick around in my text files. It’s macabre, and I haven’t verified the authenticity of any of them, but it’s interesting nonetheless. -N Thomas Jefferson–still survives… ~~ John Adams, US President, d. July 4, 1826 (Actually, Jefferson had died earlier that same […]

the archivist April 30, 2014

Анна Ахматова                 Меня, как реку, Суровая эпоха повернула. Мне подменили жизнь. В другое русло, Мимо другого потекла она, И я своих не знаю берегов. О, как я много зрелищ пропустила, И занавес вздымался без меня И так же падал. Сколько я друзей Своих ни разу в жизни […]

the archivist April 30, 2014

And Yet the Books | Czesław Miłosz And yet the books will be there on the shelves, separate beings, That appeared once, still wet As shining chestnuts under a tree in autumn, And touched, coddled, began to live In spite of fires on the horizon, castles blown up, Tribes on the march, planets in motion. […]

the archivist January 30, 2014

The Snow Man by Wallace Stevens One must have a mind of winter To regard the frost and the boughs Of the pine-trees crusted with snow; And have been cold a long time To behold the junipers shagged with ice, The spruces rough in the distant glitter Of the January sun; and not to think […]

the archivist December 11, 2013

Przedmowa Ty, którego nie mogłem ocalić, Wysłuchaj mnie. Zrozum tę mowę prostą, bo wstydzę się innej. Przysięgam, nie ma we mnie czarodziejstwa słów. Mówię do ciebie milcząc, jak obłok czy drzewo. To, co wzmacniało mnie, dla ciebie było śmiertelne. Żegnanie epoki brałeś za początek nowej, Natchnienie nienawiści za piękno liryczne, Siłę ślepą za dokonany kształt. […]

the archivist December 3, 2013

Po prostu Julia Hartwig Na wszystko przyjdzie pora Ale nie przyjdzie czas wskrzeszenia pierwszych nadziei i pierwszych miłości ani utrwalenia w słowach tego co przebiega ci przez głowę jak wiatr i bywa przeczuciem jakiejś ważnej prawdy lecz umyka tak szybko jakoby swawoliło Przychodzi jednak nieodwołalnie pora kiedy po kolei tracić zaczynasz wszystko co kochałeś i […]

the archivist November 4, 2013

Sonnet XXV by George Santayana As in the midst of battle there is room For thoughts of love, and in foul sin for mirth; As gossips whisper of a trinket’s worth Spied by the death-bed’s flickering candle-gloom; As in the crevices of Caesar’s tomb The sweet herbs flourish on a little earth: So in this […]

the archivist October 27, 2013

The Letter by Dana Gioia         And in the end, all that is really left Is a feeling—strong and unavoidable— That somehow we deserved something better. That somewhere along the line things Got fouled up. And that letter from whoever’s In charge, which certainly would have set Everything straight between us and […]

the archivist October 24, 2013

Lines Lost among Trees Billy Collins These are not the lines that came to me while walking in the woods with no pen and nothing to write on anyway. They are gone forever, a handful of coins dropped through the grate of memory, along with the ingenious mnemonic I devised to hold them in place- […]