LOVERS of Chopin’s music will know the name of Jane Stirling, the great composer’s pupil, admirer, and devoted friend, who was instrumental in bringing him to Scotland in 1848. Sadly, Jane’s warmth was not reciprocated by Chopin. Here, the Polish poet Wislawa Szymborska projects into Chopin’s attitude towards his circle of supporters.

A ‘THANK-YOU’ NOTE

There is much I owe

to those I do not love.

The relief in accepting

they are closer to another.

Joy that I am not

the wolf to their sheep.

My peace be with them

for with them I am free,

and this, love can neither give,

nor know how to take.

I don't wait for them

from window to door.

Almost as patient

as a sun dial,

I understand

what love does not understand.

I forgive what love would never have forgiven.

Between rendezvous and letter

no eternity passes,

only a few days or weeks.

My trips with them always turn out well.

Concerts are heard.

Cathedrals are toured.

Landscapes are distinct.

And when seven rivers and mountains

come between us,

they are rivers and mountains

well known from any map.

It is thanks to them

that I live in three dimensions,

in a non-lyrical and non-rhetorical space,

with a shifting, thus real, horizon.

They don't even know

how much they carry in their empty hands.

'I don't owe them anything',

love would have said

on this open topic.