A
tenderness so great welled up in him that upon seeing
A
wounded sparrow, he was ready to burst into tears.
Beneath
the flawless manners of a worldly gentleman he hid
His
compassion for all that is living.
Some
people perhaps could sense it, but it was certainly known,
In
ways mysterious to us, to the small birds
That
would perch on his head and hands when he stopped
In
a park alley. They would eat from his hands
As
if the law that demands that the smaller
Take
shelter from the larger,
Lest
it be devoured, was suspended.
As
if time had turned back, and the paths
Of
the heavenly garden shone anew.
I
had trouble understanding this man
Since
what he said betrayed his knowledge of the horror of the world,
A
knowledge at some point known and experienced to the very core.
I
thus asked myself how he had managed to quell
His
rebellion and bring himself to such humble charity.
Probably
because this world, evil but existing,
He
thought better than one that did not exist.
But
he also believed in the immaculate beauty of the earth
from
before the fall of Adam.
Whose
free decision had brought death upon humans and animals.
But
this was already something my mind didn't know how to accept.
Czeslaw
Milosz
translated
from the Polish by Anthony Milosz
