Zbigniew Herbert: “About Mr. Cogito’s Two Legs”

ABOUT MR COGITO’S TWO LEGS

The left leg normal
one could say optimistic
a little too short
boyish
with exuberant muscles
and a well-shaped calf

the right leg
God help us–
thin
with two scars
one along the Achilles tendon
the other oval
pale pink
shameful reminder of an escape

the left
inclined to leap
ready to dance
loving life too much
to expose itself

the right
nobly rigid
sneering at danger

in this way
on two legs
the left which can be compared to Sancho Panza
and the right
recalling the wandering knight
Mr Cogito
goes
through the world
staggering slightly

–Zbigniew Herbert

Translation by John Carpenter & Bogdana Carpenter

Photo: Detail from Life in Transit by caruba

Zbigniew Herbert: “Mr. Cogito Meditates on Suffering”

Mr. Cogito Meditates on Suffering

All attempts to remove
the so-called cup of bitterness–
by reflection
frenzied actions on behalf of homeless cats
deep breathing
religion–
failed

one must consent
gently bend the head
not wring the hands
make use of the suffering gently moderately
like an artificial limb
without false shame
but also without unnecessary pride

do not brandish the stump
over the heads of others
don’t knock with the white cane
against the windows of the well-fed

drink the essence of bitter herbs
but not to the dregs
leave carefully
a few sips for the future

accept
but simultaneously
isolate within yourself
and if it is possible
create from the matter of suffering
a thing or a person

play
with it
of course
play

entertain it
very cautiously
like a sick child
forcing at last
with silly tricks
a faint
smile

Zbigniew Herbert

Translation by John Carpenter and Bogdana Carpenter

Photo credit: A Smile for You by mudkat

Zbigniew Herbert: “Mr Cogito and the Pearl”

Sometimes Mr Cogito recalls, not without emotion, his youthful attempts at perfection, those juvenile per aspera ad astra. One day a small pebble happened to fall inside his shoe as he was hurrying to classes. It maliciously worked its way between raw flesh and his sock. Common sense suggested that he get rid of the intruder, but the principle of amor fati demanded on the contrary that he endure it. He chose the second, heroic solution.

In the beginning it didn’t seem dangerous, a nuisance and nothing more. But after a while the heel appeared in his field of consciousness—it was at the moment when the young Cogito was trying to grasp with great effort what the professor was saying about Plato’s concept of ideas. The heel grew, swelled, pulsated, from pale pink it became scarlet red like a setting sun, and pushed out of his head not only Plato’s idea but all other ideas as well.

In the evening before going to bed he emptied the foreign body from his sock. It was a small, cold, yellow grain of sand. The heel on the contrary was large, burning, and dark with pain.

Zbigniew Herbert

 

Translation by John Carpenter and Bogdana Carpenter
Photo credit: Wikipedia commons