Life & Wisdom Quote by Wislawa Szymborska

There’s a sly modesty in the phrase “rather early on,” as if making a living from poems were a mild scheduling detail instead of an improbability bordering on scandal. Szymborska compresses a whole biography of artistic risk into the bluntest economic verb in the sentence: earning. It’s a word that belongs to factory floors and invoices, not metaphors. By pairing it with “poet,” she stages the lifelong tension her work thrives on: the sacred aura of art dragged, politely but firmly, into the realm of rent.

The intent feels twofold. On the surface, it’s a demystifying shrug aimed at readers who want poets to be either starving saints or romantic geniuses. Underneath, it hints at the peculiar realities of being a working writer in postwar Poland: a cultural ecosystem where publication, patronage, and politics could make “earning” possible, but never neutral. Szymborska knew what it meant to be professionally legible inside institutions while privately allergic to grand poses.

The line also carries a quiet joke about identity. “I started” frames poetry as a job one takes up, not a destiny one is chosen for. That’s classic Szymborska: the refusal to treat the self as monumental. Her poems routinely puncture certainty with everyday diction; here, she does it autobiographically. The subtext is a warning and an invitation: poetry isn’t an ethereal calling floating above history. It’s labor performed inside history, negotiated early, and paid for in more currencies than money.