* * *
Unto you I'll open heaven
gold, where silence white is weaved
as a giant nut of soundheart
that will break so it may live
with leaves tiny greening childly,
lakes with song full, dusk harmonious,
till reveals core birdsong milky
whistling dawn
Hardened earth I turn to cushy
dandelions fluid flight,
draw out shadows from all corners
ruffling like a cat at night,
furry sparkling coiling all things
In storm tones, in tiny heartleaves,
In grey braid of rain.
And the torrents of air trembling
smoke from thatch of angel calm,
for you I turn in long alleys
birch transparent singing balm,
till they play like violoncellos
weep - in climbing sprout pink halo,
honeybee wing psalm.
Only please remove from these eyes
hurtglass splinter - mark of days
that is dragging down skull white skies
through the fields with blood ablaze.
Only please unspell time crippled,
cover graves with cloak of river,
from hair wipe off battle dust hate,
of years irate
blackful dust.
K.K.Baczyński / 15 VI 1943
[Transl. Piotr M. Salomon, 22 II 2019]
No comments:
Post a Comment