Translated by Przemyslaw Musialowski 7/19/2018
If for the orphans of golden autumn,
Then only in a country where they dig out
From sycamores, beech trees* - among ancestors' shadows
Because these, constantly dying live.
If hands of the poor fall
Like golden leaves, without the law of gravity
- Then what must be never changes
And richer they die.
If everything ecloses itself in the space
Over the crowns with radial glow
Then nothing apart from this color will change...
They'll be reborn again in the multi-leaf tree.
Wieslaw Musialowski 9/22/2004
Beech tree is a national Polish tree often found in Polish poetry.
Translated by Przemyslaw Musialowski 9/23/2019
Nestled into a pillow before falling asleep
maybe you will think to yourself
I managed to get something done today
and the rest? let it happen in dreams,
when you wake up fresh in the morning,
like the grass silvered with frost,
the sun will twinkle with a ray
and everything shall be great,
at midday, you'll sit under a tree,
because it's pleasant to rest in the shade,
and to end the day successfully
you look at the tops of the mountains
and you think how wonderful and beautiful
is autumn, luckily, the forest is not burning
though beech trees as red as fire
Wieslaw Musialowski 9/2/2019
*A reference to The 2019 Siberian wildfires.
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.