Classic and Contemporary Poetry: Explained

Wis?awa Szymborska's "Four A.M." offers a piercing glimpse into the existential gloom that often accompanies the liminal space between night and day. This "empty hour," as the poet calls it, serves as a profound metaphor for a moment in life that is as full of stark reality as it is bereft of illusions. Through keen observations and austere imagery, Szymborska delves into the disquiet that characterizes this early morning hour, an emblem of the human condition.

The poem opens with a series of definitions for four a.m., each layered with different connotations. It is "The hour between night and day," a threshold that is neither here nor there, symbolizing life's uncertainties. It is also "The hour between toss and turn," perhaps pointing to the anxiety and restlessness that keeps one awake. Moreover, it is "The hour of thirty-year-olds," which might signify a stage of life fraught with existential questioning, a critical point where youth has faded and the weight of adulthood becomes more pressing.

Szymborska further describes this time as the hour "swept clean for rooster's crowing," and "when the earth takes back its warm embrace." These images reflect a sense of abandonment, as if the world itself withdraws, leaving individuals to confront their vulnerabilities. The "hour of cool drafts from extinguished stars" extends this sense of isolation, suggesting that even celestial bodies have turned away. The chilling question that follows-"the hour of do-we-vanish-too-without-a-trace"-underscores the existential dread that is often an intrinsic part of human life, heightened in the solitude of four a.m.

The poet designates this hour as "Empty. Hollow. Vain." It is "Rock bottom of all the other hours," reinforcing the notion that this moment strips away any pretense, laying bare the angst that usually lies beneath the surface of everyday activities. No one is immune: "No one feels fine at four a.m." The poem then shifts its focus towards ants, and by doing so, raises questions about the nature of happiness and whether it is restricted to human consciousness. "If ants feel fine at four a.m., / we're happy for the ants," the speaker says, juxtaposing human misery with the presumed simplicity of an ant's existence.

Finally, the poem closes with a note of reluctant hope or perhaps just resigned continuity: "And let five a.m. come / if we've got to go on living." There's a sense of inevitability, but also survival-even if filled with dread, life goes on, and we have no choice but to move with it.

In "Four A.M.," Szymborska captures the existential disquiet that can plague individuals, using the early morning hour as a metaphorical space to explore the anxieties and fears that are a part of the human condition. She invites the reader into this stark landscape, prompting us to confront our own vulnerabilities and the uncertainties of life itself. It's a sobering but masterful commentary on the complexities of existence.

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