Campo de’ Fiori by Czeslaw Milosz

  October 12th, 2017 by PurpleK

Someone else will read
of the passing of things human,
of the oblivion
born before the flames have died.

But that day I thought only
of the loneliness of the dying,
of how, when Giordano
climbed to his burning
he could not find
in any human tongue
words for mankind,
mankind who live on.

Someone was asking about suicide notes and it made me think back on this poem by Czeslaw Milosz. I swear it sounds better in my language… it’s meant to be about war and sacrifice, but what I see here is death. So for awhile, I was gonna leave this snippet as my suicide note. In my language it’s more like ‘In any human tongue, he could not find one single word, to say goodbye to mankind who live on’. Seemed fitting, because what do you say? What could you possibly say?

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