In “Heavenly,” a poem written at age ninety-two, [Miłosz] hopes that in heaven, like Socrates, he will
be able to keep doing what I started on earth.
That is, to strive unceasingly, to be striving itself,
and never have my fill of touching
the shimmering weave on the loom of the world.—Czesław Miłosz, quoted in “Around the World in 80 Books” by David Damrosch
The last line with its “shimmering weave on the loom of the world” is one of those that you can never hope to beat; the best you can do it try to tie it. If you manage it, your life has had purpose.
Last week: Djuna Barnes on shrinking boundaries.
Next week: Naguib Mahfouz condenses beauty upon us.
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