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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=540825" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Report from the Besieged City</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Too old to carry arms and fight like the others - </div><div style="margin:10px 0">they graciously gave me the inferior role of chronicler <br>I record - I don't know for whom - the history of the siege </div><div style="margin:10px 0">I am supposed to be exact but I don't know when the invasion began <br>two hundred years ago in December in September perhaps yesterday at dawn <br>everyone here suffers from a loss of the sense of time </div><div style="margin:10px 0">all we have left is the place the attachment to the place <br>we still rule over the ruins of temples spectres of gardens and houses <br>if we lose the ruins nothing will be left </div><div style="margin:10px 0">I write as I can in the rhythm of interminable weeks <br>monday: empty storehouses a rat became the unit of currency <br>tuesday: the mayor murdered by unknown assailants <br>wednesday: negotiations for a cease-fire the enemy has imprisoned our messengers <br>we don't know where they are held that is the place of torture <br>thursday: after a stormy meeting a majority of voices rejected <br>the motion of the spice merchants for unconditional surrender <br>friday: the beginning of the plague saturday: our invincible defender <br>N.N. committed suicide sunday: no more water we drove back <br>an attack at the eastern gate called the Gate of the Alliance </div><div style="margin:10px 0">all of this is monotonous I know it can't move anyone </div><div style="margin:10px 0">I avoid any commentary I keep a tight hold on my emotions I write about the facts <br>only they it seems are appreciated in foreign markets <br>yet with a certain pride I would like to inform the world <br>that thanks to the war we have raised a new species of children <br>our children don’t like fairy tales they play at killing <br>awake and asleep they dream of soup of bread and bones <br>just like dogs and cats </div><div style="margin:10px 0">in the evening I like to wander near the outposts of the city <br>along the frontier of our uncertain freedom. <br>I look at the swarms of soldiers below their lights <br>I listen to the noise of drums barbarian shrieks <br>truly it is inconceivable the City is still defending itself <br>the siege has lasted a long time the enemies must take turns <br>nothing unites them except the desire for our extermination <br>Goths the Tartars Swedes troops of the Emperor regiments of the Transfiguration <br>who can count them <br>the colours of their banners change like the forest on the horizon <br>from delicate bird's yellow in spring through green through red to winter's black </div><div style="margin:10px 0">and so in the evening released from facts I can think <br>about distant ancient matters for example our <br>friends beyond the sea I know they sincerely sympathize <br>they send us flour lard sacks of comfort and good advice <br>they don’t even know their fathers betrayed us <br>our former allies at the time of the second Apocalypse <br>their sons are blameless they deserve our gratitude therefore we are grateful <br>they have not experienced a siege as long as eternity <br>those struck by misfortune are always alone <br>the defenders of the Dalai Lama the Kurds the Afghan mountaineers </div><div style="margin:10px 0">now as I write these words the advocates of conciliation <br>have won the upper hand over the party of inflexibles <br>a normal hesitation of moods fate still hangs in the balance </div><div style="margin:10px 0">cemeteries grow larger the number of defenders is smaller <br>yet the defence continues it will continue to the end <br>and if the City falls but a single man escapes <br>he will carry the City within himself on the roads of exile <br>he will be the City </div><div style="margin:10px 0">we look in the face of hunger the face of fire face of death <br>worst of all - the face of betrayal <br>and only our dreams have not been humiliated</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Zbigniew+Herbert">Zbigniew Herbert</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=540825" data-title="Report from the Besieged City de Zbigniew Herbert" data-description="Too old to carry arms and fight like the others - 

they graciously gave me the inferior role of chronicler 
I record - I don't know for whom - the history of the siege 

I am supposed to be exact but I don't know when the invasion began 
two hund..."></div>
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