Who is Zbigniew Herbert

Zbigniew HerbertZbigniew HerbertBorn(1924-10-29)29 October 1924
Lwów, PolandDied28 July 1998(1998-07-28) (aged 73)
Warsaw, PolandResting placePowązki CemeteryOccupationPoet, essayistLanguagePolish
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Zbigniew Herbert Poems

  • A Knocker
    There are those who grow
    gardens in their heads
    paths lead from their hair
    to sunny and white cities ...
  • Report From Paradise
    In paradise the work week is fixed at thirty hours
    salaries are higher prices steadily go down
    manual labour is not tiring (because of reduced gravity)
    chopping wood is no harder than typing ...
  • Three Poems By Heart
    I

    I can't find the title
    of a memory about you ...
  • From The Top Of The Stairs
    Of course
    those who are standing at the top of the stairs
    know
    they know everything ...
  • Daedalus And Icarus
    Daedalus says:

    Go on sonny but remember that you are walking and not flying
    the wings are just an ornament and you are stepping on a meadow ...
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Top 10 most used topics by Zbigniew Herbert

Earth 11 Water 10 White 9 Head 9 Time 9 Black 9 City 9 Light 9 Long 9 Sea 8


Zbigniew Herbert Quotes

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Comments about Zbigniew Herbert

  • Goodnatureart: zbigniew herbert's "a life"
  • Clpolk: so every sunday i read ordinary plots, and every sunday i get the treat of a beautiful poem and thoughtful observations about it and interesting textual comparisons...a gift, really. read zbigniew herbert's "a life"
  • Themoneyiowe: i wrote about exhaustion, expectation, & poems by zbigniew herbert & alen hamza for my newsletter today
  • Princessekateri: {poets & painters} whoever dares to copy van gogh falls inevitably into the hell of imitators. for this painter didn't care about masterpieces, or even good paintings... but about what is beyond all painting, all art. ~ zbigniew herbert
  • Princessekateri: “we fall asleep on words / we wake among words” ― zbigniew herbert
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Poem of the day

Ernest Dowson Poem
Vain Hope
 by Ernest Dowson

Sometimes, to solace my sad heart, I say,
Though late it be, though lily-time be past,
Though all the summer skies be overcast,
Haply I will go down to her, some day,
And cast my rests of life before her feet,
That she may have her will of me, being so sweet
And none gainsay!

...

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