Monologue of a Dog Ensnared in History There are dogs and dogs. I was among the chosen. I had good papers and wolf's blood in my veins. I lived upon the heights inhaling the odors of views: meadows in sunlight, spruces after rain, and clumps of earth beneath the snow. I had a decent home and people on call, I was fed, washed, groomed, and taken for lovely strolls. Respectfully, though, and comme il faut. They all knew full well whose dog I was. Any lousy mutt can have a master.

Take care, though-beware comparisons. My master was a breed apart. He had a splendid herd that trailed his every step and fixed its eyes on him in fearful awe. Monolog psa zaplatanego w dzieje Sa psy i psy. Ja bylem psem wybranym. Mialem dobre papiery i w zylach krew wilcza. Mieszkalem na wyzynie wdychajac wonie widoków na laki w sloncu, na swierki po deszczu i grudy ziemi spod sniegu. Mialem porzadny dom i ludzi na uslugi bylem zywiony, myty, szczotkowany, wyprowadzany na piekne spacery.

Jednak z szacunkiem, bez poufalosci. Kazdy dobrze pamietal, czyim jestem psem. Byle parszywy kundel potrafi miec pana. Ale uwaga-wara od porównan. Mój pan byl panem jedynym w swoim rodzaju. Mial okazale stado chodzace za nim krok w krok i zapatrzone w niego z lekliwym podziwem. Copyright © by Wislawa Szymborska, 2002 Translation copyright © 2006 by Harcourt, Inc. Foreword © 2006 by Billy Collins All rights reserved.

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