12
PARTISAN REVIEW
I have read not from a collection
qf
Whitman's poems but from a collec–
tion of poems by Czeslaw Milosz, published over a hundred years later,
entitled
Unattainable Earth.
It underscores Milosz's own fulfillment of
Whitman's prophetic sense of himself, namely that he contains multitudes.
Milosz's multitudes are a veritable polyphony of contradictory voices. The
speaker accomplishes what Milosz achieves so well, a recogni tion of the
universal in the particular, often unnoticed except by those who, like the
poet, would become as little children-who both participate in the world
and detach themselves from it. Transcendence occurs in the tension of the
two movements. As in Blake, the poet is able to see the world in a grain of
sand. The world of the grindstone and of the grinder is also that of the
creator, a demiurge making both beauty and waste while sharpening what
may be either a tool or a weapon. Surely Czeslaw Milosz has been a par–
ticipant and an observer of the beauty and terror of the demiurge at
work-and, with passion and detachment, has always been able to glorifY
things because they are. For the next three and a half days, we will witness
Czeslaw Milosz's poetry even as we discover the way his poetry has wit–
nessed us.
To begin with, Jerzy Illg will talk on "An Invisible Rope: Milosz's
Underground Publications," some of which are exhibited, along with pho–
tographs and books, in the Honnold Library across the street. Jerzy Illg
taught Polish literature at the Silesan University until he was banned, and
then became the editor-in-chief of the publishing house Znak. But first,
Czeslaw Milosz will read his poem, "A Magic Mountain."
Czeslaw Milosz:
"A Magic Mountain."
( don't remember exactly when Budberg died, it was either two
years ago or three.
The same with Chen. Whether last year or the one before.
Soon after our arrival, Budberg, gently pensive,
Said that in the beginning it is hard to get accustomed,
For here there is no spring or summer, no winter or fall.
"( kept dreaming of snow and birch forests.
Where so little changes you hardly notice how time goes by.
This is, you will see, a magic mountain."
Budberg: a familiar name in my childhood.
They were prominent in our region,
This Russian family, descendants of German Baits.
( read none of his works, too specialized.
