Off topic: To another 118 (Polish poetry in translation)
Thread poster: Jacek Krankowski
Dedicated to another 118 who died (in Moscow):
We no longer have history
all we have are wasted
moments of life
of mock justice
this is not history these are not its bells
a day’s quicksand sinking voices
our funerals in whispering leaves
the embrace above the coffin eyes eyes
and time rolling over us
will not have the face of history
but a fox’s sly and treacherous snout
Anna Kamienska, 1983
(Translated from Polish by Stanislaw Baranczak and Clare Cavanagh)
Elegy for the Living
The joy of the moment turns suddenly
into a black hood with openings
only for eyes, mouth, tongue, grief. More grief.
The living see off their days
like negatives, exposed once
but never developed.
The living exist, so light-mindedly, so nonchantly,
that the dead are abashed.
They smile sadly: Children,
we were like you, just the same.
Above us, robinias blossomed,
and in the robinias, nightingales sang.
(Translated from Polish by Renata Gorczynska, Benjamin Ivry, C.K.Williams)
More modern Polish poetry in translation:
[ This Message was edited by: on 2002-10-29 21:49 ]
[ This Message was edited by: on 2002-11-04 21:11 ]
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To another 118 (Polish poetry in translation)
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