By Adam Zagajewski
We were the barbarians.
You trembled before us in your palaces.
You awaited us with pounding hearts.
You commented on our languages:
they apparently consist of consonants alone,
of rustles, whispers, and dry leaves.
We were those who lived in the dark forests.
We were what Ovid feared in Tomi,
we were the worshippers of gods with names
you could not pronounce.
But we too knew loneliness
and fear, and began longing for poetry.
(For me this poem by a contemporary Polish poet speaks to the where and why of poetry)
poems for friends 
I love this poem, Harry. I can hear so many people around the world, for centuries, reciting it.
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Here is a poem I’d like to share
Genealogy
by Camille Rankine
I was born in a forest.
I don’t know my name.
I was born on a mountain but changed
my mind. I was born
in the desert. All my people died
in the fire and left me
with the gods. They called me dust.
How it burned me. I come from the sea,
I believe. I come from beryl,
aquamarine. All my people
rode their horses off
the edge of the world and left me
on your doorstep. They called me
sorrow. I don’t know my name.
I come from wartime. How it burned me.
I was born aflame, I believe. A sun
so intentional. A sun in repose, a sun
in continuous sunset, sinking into the ground.
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This is beautiful and touching. And it goes so well with Barbarians,.
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I liked this. It fits the world in which unfortunately live
Caroline C. Kresky KRESKY LAW 3340 Peachtree Road Suite 1530 Atlanta, Ga 30326 DID: (678) 661-2601 Cell: 404 394-9015 ckresky@kreskylaw.com
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