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<span style="FONT-SIZE: 16px;">Love at First Sight<br/>by Wislawa Szymborska<br/><br/><br/>They both thought<br/>that a sudden feeling had united them<br/>This certainty is beautiful,<br/>Even more beautiful than uncertainty.<br/><br/>They thought they didn't know each other,<br/>nothing had ever happened between them,<br/>These streets, these stairs, this corridors,<br/>Where they could have met so long ago?<br/><br/>I would like to ask them,<br/>if they can remember -<br/>perhaps in a revolving door<br/>face to face one day?<br/>A "sorry" in the crowd?<br/>"Wrong number" on the 'phone?<br/>- but I know the answer.<br/>No, they don't remember.<br/><br/>How surprised they would be<br/>For such a long time already<br/>Fate has been playing with them.<br/><br/>Not quite yet ready<br/>to change into destiny,<br/>which brings them nearer and yet further,<br/>cutting their path<br/>and stifling a laugh,<br/>escaping ever further;<br/>There were sings, indications,<br/>undecipherable, what does in matter.<br/>Three years ago, perhaps<br/>or even last Tuesday,<br/>this leaf flying<br/>from one shoulder to another?<br/>Something lost and gathered.<br/>Who knows, perhaps a ball already<br/>in the bushes, in childhood?<br/><br/>There were handles, door bells,<br/>where, on the trace of a hand,<br/>another hand was placed;<br/>suitcases next to one another in the<br/>left luggage.<br/>And maybe one night the same dream<br/>forgotten on walking;<br/><br/>But every beginning<br/>is only a continuation<br/>and the book of fate is<br/>always open in the middle.<br/>Translation from Polish by Roman Gren<br/>Translation from French by Sarah Hardenberg</span> |
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