First, plain speech in the mother tongue. <br />Hearing it, you should be able to see <br />Apple trees, a river, the bend of a road, <br />As if in a flash of summer lightning. <br /> <br />And it should contain more than images. <br />It has been lured by singsong, <br />A daydream, melody. Defenseless, <br />It was bypassed by the sharp, dry world. <br /> <br />You often ask yourself why you feel shame <br />Whenever you look through a book of poetry. <br />As if the author, for reasons unclear to you, <br />Addressed the worse side of your nature, <br />Pushing aside thought, cheating thought. <br /> <br />Seasoned with jokes, clowning, satire, <br />Poetry still knows how to please. <br />Then its excellence is much admired. <br />But the grave combats where life is at stake <br />Are fought in prose. It was not always so. <br /> <br />And our regret has remained unconfessed. <br />Novels and essays serve but will not last. <br />One clear stanza can take more weight <br />Than a whole wagon of elaborate prose.<br /><br />Czeslaw Milosz<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/preface-6/
