Reflections of a nomadic life: Paris department store vitrine featuring travel in Maroc.
"It's the same with us. We wear the brocade
of past centuries or dress in fake purple.
Covering our faces with velvet masks.
Classical, playing again what has been played before,
And yet, I affirm, this is the earth of wonder.
It gives us the gift of eternal youth.
"To you, I lift this cup, here, on the stage.
I, one voice no more, in the vast theatre.
Against closed eyes, bitter lips.
Against silence, which is slavery."
-Czeslaw Milosz, Brie-Comte-Robert, France, 1954
Mary, thank you for being so supportive! Your comments mean more than you might imagine.
Posted by: Tara Bradford | 05 August 2013 at 19:46
Marilyn, I opened the book of poems to that page and like you, was struck by the last line. Very timely, isn't it? Then I looked through my photo files for an image to match the poem.
Posted by: Tara Bradford | 05 August 2013 at 19:45
Jeanie, the poem is from a book of Czeslaw Milosz's poetry, "New and Collected Poems." And yes, it certainly stands the test of time!
Posted by: Tara Bradford | 05 August 2013 at 19:42
Wow. I don't know where you found this one but it is as timely today as in 1954 when written.
Posted by: jeanie | 05 August 2013 at 18:55
I am struck by the last line in that silence is slavery. I will be thinking of this today. Yes, there is slavery in silence.
Posted by: Marilyn | 05 August 2013 at 17:03
Eternally thankful, Tara, in having discovered the realm of Paris Parfait. This entry echoes bittersweet notes in my heart. Thank you for making time to share some of your passions with your readers.
Posted by: Mary H. | 05 August 2013 at 01:23