Resolution by Tadeusz Dąbrowski

Resolution

Today I chose myself an eye from your nude photo

and enlarged it to the limits of the screen, to

the limits of resolution (and that’s high enough

for one to believe in you). I enlarged

your right eye, wanting after the final mouse click

to jump to the other side, to examine your soul

or at least my own clicked-on self. Around

the forty-fourth enlargement

I saw my own foggy silhouette,

at the sixty-sixth the outline of the camera,

readable to me alone. But beyond that

there was nothing but grey rectangles

neatly laid like the bricks in a house, like the

stones in the wailing wall I stand in front of

day and night, doggedly swelling the cracks

with notes filled with my poems.

(Translated by Antonia Lloyd-Jones)