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.
Maria Konopnicka's funeral in Lviv was attended by almost 50,000 people, and to this day this great poet has her own and special place in the hearts of ordinary Polish people.
Konopnicka's poetry has a pinch of Hans Christian Andersen's magic and warmth, and this warmth and magic is not lost in free-verse translation.
Enjoy!
