The Nov/Dec issue of Adbusters, a magazine I have never bothered to read before, is one of the most brilliant pieces of literature I have seen in quite some time... It apparently reports on a hypothetical trip into the future where the end of civilization is witnessed. WOW! Included in the many contributions is a poem by Czeslaw Milosz that I had to include in this post:

"On the day the world ends A bee circles a clover A fisherman mends a glimmering net Happy porpoises jump in the sea By the rainspout young sparrows are playing And the snake is gold-skinned as it should always be.

On the day the world ends Women walk through fields under their umbrellas A drunkard grows sleepy at the edge of a lawn, Vegetable peddlers shout in the street And a yellow-sailed boat comes nearer the island, The voice of a violin lasts in the air And leads to starry night.

And those who expected lightning and thunder Are disappointed. And those who expected signs and archangels' trumps Do not believe it it happening now. As long as the sun and the moon are above, As long as the bumblebee visits a rose, As long as rosy infants are born No on believes it is happening now.

Only a white-haired old man, who would be a prophet, Yet he is not a prophet, for he's much too busy, Repeats while he binds his tomatoes: There will be no other end of the world, There will be no other end of the world."

Sorry for the über-long post, but I just had to get this out there...


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