Here on Earth

Czesław Miłosz, Robert Hass (trans.), The New Yorker, December 30, 1985

"My parents, my husband,my brother, my sister,"
I am listening in a cafeteria at breakfast.
The women's voices rustle, fulfill themselves
In a ritual no doubt necessary.
I glance sidelong at their moving lips
And I delight in being here on earth
For one more moment, with them, here on earth,
To celebrate our tiny, tiny my-ness.