Life's journey is hard for everyone,
but always try, as best as you can,
that it'd be a white-sailed ship
that will be awaiting you when
your odyssey comes to an end.

Przemyslaw Musialowski 10/25/2020

Translated by Przemyslaw Musialowski 12/2/2019

I miss these people: simple and direct,
the green and blue open gate of the lowlands,
the majesty of generations, a real chamber,
conversations around the table, what's new in the village:
that Johnny is doing well, that he was lucky,
even though he has never been a top student in geography,
that Mary has a husband who loves and respects her,
for he knows that you shouldn't judge a book by its cover,
that a kind heart is a real treasure.
It should be taught at home from an early age
that there's a place above the door where Christ on a wooden cross
is waiting suffering, patient - he doesn't complain
that every day he has to see that it's not easy here
- everyone shall get as much as in the will
all deeds weigh on the scale, and the clock
counts the days and hours and works evenly:
sometimes he would like to slow down the heart of the machinery,
but the big hand is constantly urging the small one
oh, how can a whole comprise in one life,
can you excuse yourself, divide into smaller pieces?
- you need to be a human and to be cheerful in your life.

Wieslaw Musialowski 08/12/2017

Translated by Przemyslaw Musialowski 7/16/2018

The sun bows low,
putting out the candlesticks of time,
it decorates white altars,
therefore winter is already close.

Wieslaw Musialowski 15/10/2001

Translated by Przemyslaw Musialowski 9/29/2019

Even if your ship would be caught in the greatest of storms,
you'll stay in charge unafraid being the helmsman for your crew,
like a good father caring for his children, you shall not let them die.

If you fall - you will not swear,
because your fellowmen will lift you up,
for your heart for everyone and everywhere.

Remember - money is the king of the world,
and friends? - they'll find you in need,
but the small flame of a poor-quality candle
always quickly goes out.

For your birthday some will bring you roses,
have you seen this flower without thorns?
while others - dasies from an oak wood,
adorned with the most innocent dew.

You'll have to choose - love or affection,
and given moment you'd better not confuse
that sometimes it's worth to think about that
what in its essence a flower shall remain.

Wieslaw Musialowski 5/10/2003

Translated by Przemyslaw Musialowski 11/9/2019

From boulder to boulder, I was standing on a fragile plank
that separates light from darkness, death from life,
over the huge explosion of the precipice foamed...
Below me, the roar and beating of the wings of a dark night.

Through the moist floor of the moss tapestries, the abyss
is growling and, like a hound, rattling with the chain...
At my feet its foams, its anger, its howling...
I trample them, I strike them with lightning bolts... I am just a shade.

From boulder to boulder, I've descended under the mad assault
of waters, ferociously rushing at me and at the the abyss,
stunned by the simultaneous firing of a hundred death's guns.

And suddenly I felt like a light bird feather,
carried far away from the quiet marina by the breeze,
and trembling, I covered my eyes... I was just daydreaming.

Maria Konopnicka (1842-1910)

Translated by Przemyslaw Musialowski 11/9/2019

Since you have flashed in my silent sky
with a flaming star flying into the abyss,
I know what life is and I know what is dying,
- because of you I live, because of you I die.

You are a poisonous flower from which I collect nectar,
You are a thunder and a storm from which I draw silence,
You are grind and discord with which to sleep I rock myself,
I live because of you, because of you I die.

My chest is getting cold, my heart is beating fast,
under your kisses and under your touch,
I die with delight, with passion I rise,
- because of you I live, and because of you I die.

On you, oh wave, I lean my head,
on you I put my wings, oh raging gale,
with you, destruction, I double my strength,
I live because of you, because of you I die.

Your caresses are bells at my funeral,
Your caresses are golden bowls of happiness,
You are the fire that puts out the flames...
you are the water that starts a blaze...
I live because of you, because of you I die! ...

Maria Konopnicka (1842-1910)

The wind whispered to the trees
Who sent messages in fallen leaves

The bluebell rang out the alarm
And the rabbits burrowed out of harm

The birds carried the message on a wing
Then the forest fell asleep until the spring