Pebble

The pebble 
is a perfect creature 

equal to itself 
mindful of its limits 

filled exactly 
with a pebbly meaning 

with a scent that does not remind one of anything 
does not frighten anything away does not arouse desire 

its ardour and coldness 
are just and full of dignity 

I feel a heavy remorse 
when I hold it in my hand 
and its noble body 
is permeated by false warmth 

Pebbles cannot be tamed 
to the end they will look at us 
with a calm and very clear eye

Zbigniew Herbert 

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8 Responses to Pebble

  1. leander42 says:

    There is absolutely nothing about this poem that I do not like.

    ‘equal to itself, mindful of its limits’ – perfectly balanced and insightful, as is the entire piece.

  2. leander42 says:

    oh, and it’s wonderfully gentle

  3. nonoymanga says:

    Very pleasing. Good day Nonoy Manga

  4. Pingback: Leander 42′s Poem and Blog of the Week | Leander42

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