Translated by Przemyslaw Musialowski 5/26/2019
Do you remember the cars plainly carved up?
pine trunks and oak wheels,
with which we carried joy every day
to the potato field enveloped in smoke,
where carts with ammunition waited
and potato barricades stood
our big storages of bloodless weapon
- there we fought our potato wars.
A sip of water served as refreshing fare,
so everything was spinning around.
And when the battlefield has been captured at last,
tired, craving for settlement
by the fire with a song we bravely sat down
to conclude friendly agreements
- into young hearts with a warm thread sewn.
I know that you remember - how we could forget
the most beautiful moments? - It's like
not to see a certain beauty in the fields;
It's like losing in the time of beautiful weather
a piece of dear life that has been given to us,
to be able to always recall memories
and give advice to the lost...
Hidden somewhere in the recesses of tomorrow,
as though intentionally with a secret mist enveloped
to delude, or for our convenience?
You remember the spring, so carefully selected
from among the purest? It's why we reached
to the very bottom - into innermost deposits,
to learn with a falcon's look
to grasp what a simple thought cannot,
if you won't look with stubbornness into the eyes
because lectures from the theory are not enough,
and blind faith will only do more damage.
However... solitary, we ran into the crowd,
wanting to acquire known and unknown:
to reach peaks rising from the darkness...
but perhaps it was right - to rather dream up,
than to compete with fate stubbornly.
Wieslaw Musialowski 3/19/2003
Friends, I am asking for your understanding, because all my translations must be proofread and corrected. Poems are hard to translate (even in free verse translations). The original is rhymed. Regards.