Translated by Przemyslaw Musialowski 11/2/2019

Paint me such a village in the valley,
sad with dark green firs and cheerful with crops...
Let she all in red rowanberries be,
and let gray linen lay on her meadows;
let colorful rainbows throw themselves across the silent pond,
dispersed by air that spurts out of the waters deep.
Let the cloud of pigeons flutter overhead,
and dandelions' soft fluff and spiders' silk threads...

And paint pastures and fertile fields,
and in their black soil let wheat and barley shine with gold,
and let fiery red of poppies ridges beautifully adorn,
and poplars over the road make into a string,
and throw the silvery mist on the meadows...

And let they walk so, loudly, through the field
heifers' bells and clapping of whips.
Let the willows ponder by the murmuring stream,
casting shadow pre-sunset and long,
and quiet calming blue give around,
and fill the air with birds' happy babbling.
And put such a cloud on the mountains' brow...
And only people make ours, so dear to my heart.

Maria Konopnicka (1842-1910)

* The original name of the poem is "In a foreign land", as
the poem was written in Karlsbad in Germany.

If life gives you lemons
just be thankful it’s not a lime,
and when squeezing it
avoid getting the juice in your eye this time.

I chew, I chew, I chew, I chew
That's not a sneeze
That is the sound of me
eating my enemies.

I'm a tiny human
On a continent
On a planet
In the solar system
Of a galaxy
Among billions of others
In an ever expanding universe
EVERYTHING is possible

I drink with my eyes
And taste with my skin
It's hard to know
Where each sense begins
My smile spreads
Like grape jam on toast
Where less is more
And nothing's the most
I feel with my heart
And live in a laugh
Written in lines
Like this paragraph