Diary: On Adam Zagajewski

By Ann Kjellberg, editor

I was so startled by the death last night of Polish poet Adam Zagajewski, because he always seemed, though he had apparently somehow become seventy-five, like a young man. I knew him in the company of Joseph Brodsky, for whom I worked in the eighties and nineties, and Joseph’s friends. In that crowd Adam was a junior member. But it wasn’t just that. He …

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