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A weak human mercy walks in the corridors of hospitals and is like a half-thawed winter.
-Czeslaw Milosz
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A Weak Human Mercy Walks In The

Czeslaw Milosz
A weak human mercy walks in the corridors of hospitals and is like a half-thawed winter.
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Winter Half Mercy

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It is not the high summer alone that is god's. the winter also is his. and into his winter he came to visit us. and all man's winters are his - the winter of our poverty, the winter of our sorrow, the winter of our unhappiness - even 'the winter of our discontent.
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At some time in the recent past someone had decided to brighten the ancient corridors of the university by painting them, having some vague notion that learning should be fun. it hadn’t worked. it’s a fact known throughout the universes that no matter how carefully the colors are chosen, institutional decor ends up as either vomit green, unmentionable brown, nicotine yellow or surgical appliance pink. by some little-understood process of sympathetic resonance, corridors painted in those colors always smell slightly of boiled cabbage—even if no cabbage is ever cooked in the vicinity.
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Weep like the waterwheel, that green herbs may spring up from the courtyard of your soul. if you wish for tears, have mercy on one who sheds tears; if you wish mercy, show mercy to the weak.
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Thus thought i, as by night i read of the great army of the dead, the trenches cold and damp, the starved and frozen camp,-- the wounded from the battle-plain, in dreary hospitals of pain, the cheerless corridors, the cold and stony floors. lo! in that house of misery a lady with a lamp i see pass through the glimmering gloom and flit from room to room. and slow, as in a dream of bliss, the speechless sufferer turns to kiss her shadow, as it falls upon the darkening walls.
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Lips half-willing in a doorway. lips half-singing at a window. eyes half-dreaming in the walls. feet half-dancing in a kitchen. even the clocks half-yawn the hours and the farmers make half-answers.
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The men who were running the church in the late '60s and '70s panicked when they saw the chaos, which developed after the council. the relatively modest changes of those years thawed the ice in which catholicism had been frozen since the french revolution.
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