Szymborska's "Redemptive Handrail"

Like her (love a lot of her) but I wasn't really crazy about "Some Like Poetry" when I first read it. Part of what nettled me was the ending (variously translated). Anyway, I found the original and a few "versions" (see below), and may (I have a Polka in my house) eventually include a version of my own.

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Niektórzy lubią poezję

Niektórzy -
czyli nie wszyscy.
Nawet nie większość wszystkich ale mniejszość.
Nie licząc szkół, gdzie się musi,
i samych poetów,
będzie tych osób chyba dwie na tysiąc.

Lubią -
ale lubi się także rosół z makaronem,
lubi się komplementy i kolor niebieski,
lubi się stary szalik,
lubi się stawiać na swoim,
lubi się głaskać psa.

Poezję -
Tylko co to takiego poezja.
Niejedna chwiejna odpowiedź
na to pytanie już padła.
A ja nie wiem i nie wiem i trzymam się tego
Jak zbawiennej poręczy.

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From Google Translate:


Some like poetry

Some -
that is not all.
Not even the majority of all but a small minority.
Not counting schools, where they must,
and the poets themselves,
I think these people will be two per thousand.

like -
but also likes chicken soup with noodles,
likes compliments and the color blue
like an old scarf,
likes to put on your own,
likes to pat the dog.

poetry -
Just what is poetry.
More than one rickety answer
this question has already fallen.
And I do not know and do not know and stick to it
As redemptive handrail.


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Some like poetry

Some -
thus not all. Not even the majority of all but the minority.
Not counting schools, where one has to,
and the poets themselves,
there might be two people per thousand.

Like -
but one also likes chicken soup with noodles,
one likes compliments and the color blue,
one likes an old scarf,
one likes having the upper hand,
one likes stroking a dog.

Poetry -
but what is poetry.
Many shaky answers
have been given to this question.
But I don't know and don't know and hold on to it
like to a sustaining railing.


Translated by Regina Grol


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Some People Like Poetry

Some people--
that is not everybody
Not even the majority but the minority.
Not counting the schools where one must,
and the poets themselves,
there will be perhaps two in a thousand.

Like--
but we also like chicken noodle soup,
we like compliments and the color blue,
we like our old scarves,
we like to have our own way,
we like to pet dogs.

Poetry--
but what is poetry.
More than one flimsy answer
has been given to that question.
And I don't know, and don't know, and I
cling to it as to a life line.

Translated by Walter Whipple


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Some People Like Poetry


Some people—
that means not everyone.
Not even most of them, only a few.
Not counting school, where you have to,
and poets themselves,
you might end up with two per thousand.

Like—
but then, you can like chicken noodle soup,
or compliments, or the color blue,
your old scarf,
your own way,
petting the dog.

Poetry—
but what is poetry, anyway?
More than one rickety answer
has tumbled since that question first was raised.
But I just keep on not knowing, and I cling to that
like a redemptive handrail.


Translated by Stanislaw Baranczak and Clare Cavanagh


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Some like poetry

Some--

that means not all.

Not even the majority of all but the minority.

Not counting the schools, where one must,

and the poets themselves, there will be perhaps two in a thousand.


Like--

but one also likes chicken noodle soup,

one likes compliments and the color blue, one likes an old scarf,

one likes to prove one's point,

one likes to pet a dog.


Poetry--

but what sort of thing is poetry?

More than one shaky answer

has been given to this question.

But I do not know and do not know and clutch on to it,

as to a saving bannister.


Translated by Joanna Trzeciak