Well, can Death mean Life? Could One be in Death, but really Alive?
So, why does "not dying" have to be a triumph? True, "love our life and every second" is very important. However, what about an infant that only lives for a few minutes? Could the death of that infant open to something more beautiful than what is thought to be life? Maybe, a type of triumph is not separating life and death into two categories.
Maybe, maybe not.
I think the two categories naturally arise due to the circumstances of being and non-being.
Death of the physical body is part of being alive in physical form. I think what the poetess means by "triumph" over death is living with an attitude of gratitude and coming to accept what can not be changed, rather than dwelling in fear of it.
I prefer "He that's not buzy being born is buzy dying".
She did not say "victory;" she said "triumph." One can be worthy of the triumph, while the war still continues; victory is completion of all standards necessary for the cessation of conflict. To live is for death to not achieve victory today; that is worthy of the triumph, even a little one.
Thank you, Couga. Yes, triumph and victory are not the same by any means.
I wonder if the victory and/or triumph over death lies in a priori based knowledge?
Preoccupied with killing,
it does the job awkwardly,
without system or skill.
As though each of us were its first kill.
Oh, it has its triumphs,
but look at its countless defeats,
missed blows,
and repeat attempts!
Now this is the only mention of triumphs which referes to death having it so I feel Martilin took it out of content "Wislawa Szymborska, a contemporary Polish poetess, writes that every second that anything lives is a triumph over death" and added her interpertation, which started this batter back and forth. Although Martilin makes sense with it, I think the poet was making an observation, not a conclusion.
People who have confronted their own mortality, with any amount of grace, can certainly relate to the "triumph over death". That can be moment to moment, day to day, year to year.
Diagnosed with ovarian cancer at 28, the most deadly in women. I counted the minutes, hours, days I survived. I triumphed.
