A new book of poems by Wislawa Szymborska is a rare and exciting event. When Here was published in Poland, reviewers marveled, “How is it that she keeps getting better?” These twenty-seven poems, as rendered by prize-winning translators Clare Cavanagh and Stanislaw Baranczak, are among her greatest ever. Whether writing about her teenage self, microscopic creatures, or the upsides to living on Earth, she remains a virtuoso of form, line, and thought. From the title poem: I can’t speak for elsewhere,but here on Earth we’ve got a fair supply of everything.Here we manufacture chairs and sorrows,scissors, tenderness, transistors, violins, teacups, dams, and quips . . .  Like nowhere else, or almost nowhere,you’re given your own torso here,equipped with the accessories requiredfor adding your own children to the rest.Not to mention arms, legs, and astonished head.