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The End and the Beginning by Wislawa Szymborska, trans. Trzeciak Huss. A short summary of this paper. JSTOR's Terms and Conditions of Use provides, in part, that unless you have obtained prior permission, you may not download an entire issue of a journal or multiple copies of articles, and you may use content in the JSTOR archive only for your personal, non-commercial use. Please contact the publisher regarding any further use of this work.
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We use information technology and tools to increase productivity and facilitate new forms of scholarship. Bao la? Nazajutrz - bez nas. Ghi: 1 Latin. Stary Profesor. Okropny sen poety. Greecki Posag. Absence Clare Cavanagh and Stanislaw Baranczak.
Czy B. Dlaczego C. Czego F. Czemu G. Wypadek drogowy. Quiete e silenzio tra le erbe ingiallite della savana. In lontananza una pianta d'ebano con foglie sempreverdi e radici estese.
Due esseri che vogliono vivere scattati nella corsa. Un'antilope in fuga impetuosa e dietro una leonessa ansante e affamata. Al momento le loro chances sono pari.
E se non fosse per quella radice che spunta dal terreno, e se non fosse per l'inciampare di uno dei quattro zoccoli, se non fosse per il ritmo spezzato d'un quarto di secondo, di cui approfitta la leonessa con un lungo balzo - Alla domanda - di chi la colpa, nulla, solo silenzio.
Incolpevole il cielo, circulus coelestis. Incolpevole la terra nutrice, terra nutrix. They were neither good nor evil now—every living thing was simply creeping or hopping along in the mass panic.
I looked back in desolation. In shame because we had stolen away. Wanting to cry out, to go home. Or only when a sudden gust of wind unbound my hair and lifted up my robe. It seemed to me that they were watching from the walls of Sodom and bursting into thunderous laughter again and again. I looked back in anger. To savor their terrible fate. I looked back for all the reasons given above. I looked back involuntarily. It was only a rock that turned underfoot, growling at me.
It was a sudden crack that stopped me in my tracks. A hamster on its hind paws tottered on the edge. It was then we both glanced back. No, no. I ran on, I crept, I flew upward until darkness fell from the heavens and with it scorching gravel and dead birds. Anyone who saw me must have thought I was dancing. Reprinted by permission of the publisher. View the discussion thread. Skip to main content. Wilson Quarterly.
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