(b. 1963) - one of the most important poets of the tribe "bruLion", a literary critic, essayist, historian literature. Professor and lecturer at the University of Cardinal Stefan Wyszynski University in Warsaw. He has published books of poetry: "Poems" (1990), "Failed pilgrimage" (1993), "Partisan Truth (1996)," The third part "(2003)," Abduction of Europe "(2008). Author of scripts for documentary films and television shows (including "Sarmacja, namely Poland," "You have your poet!", "Song of the holy post from the old Polish poets gathered"). In 2006-2009 director of TVP Kultura. He lives in Krakow.
Answer
shoes, red laces, sneakers
Rozczłapane with Carrefour,
step by step, Turkish jeans, rolled up under his arm
blankets (because the queue
camped at night) and commercials, sweaty bodies,
ai man with a child in her arms,
on crutches, as he tried to kneel, and even the venerable old man
, AK-sheep?
Did you see?
seen a nation?
I saw the flag stands
In łopocie on Market Square in Krakow,
How intones a song, until the windows are shaking,
as looking for a place that, in the Blessed Sacrament przykucu
somewhere
At the other end of the square, inside, erected
hands of Cardinal
adore.
I saw, I saw, I saw.
lit candles and whole bunches of flowers
passed from hand to Hand
as amok,
busy, from place to place, with an eye camera
the sky,
How ants
an eye Staring at the ground.
not see the ground, pick up at the sky
head!
not see the ground? How not to look
the ground, since I'm from the land?
these wypoconych blankets,
This utytłany standing, sooty
Knotkiem feeble candle
Since stretches out from the crowd, I see little
because he hides,
Bothers, climb up on your toes, and large video screen
But I do not even see it. Neither
heads or shoulders, lower back,
breathe, sing, cry.
I look in the sky?
And what I see?
Yes, his head in the window: the glass
flashes in the gilded
frame: Collective
coverage of elation and the National
account of conscience: this is
Count injury and injustice, aesthetic
Disorder and pathetic pathos,
Collection degeneration.
"He woke up the demon,
risen corpse,
woke up the demon,
risen corpse
I poisons, poisons, kazi,
filtered, raving
Nacjonalnym slang people.
Pah! "
sky and white clouds on it and invisible
Paw dust, which embraces us, presses,
closes, leaving the square. Same
.
So you better the computer screen, hundreds of times
This
same film siren
I shot in the misty woods, to the
attached to them, solutions,
Decisions, a presumption
"I do not understand or do not want
scared, understand?"
My Lord, the wayward in your children
crowd.
blind, seen
Attracting,
Lost,
tainted recovered, cleaned
burned, crushed, smashed
, distributed
the dust, gunpowder, the steam
the crunch.
squads
Companies honor
and cannon volleys,
and piercing shriek.
I mutter through tears: Oh, do not forget
About me: do not forget
About me: do not forget
About me, remember me
behind us to pray.
How could I have forgotten about you,
If you forget, or forget,
never forget how to forget hear
remember I am.
In the heart of me.
I stayed longer.
I will not open grave
Bo and did not close the tomb.
opened the gates of the heaviest
We are in Poland now.
In Poland we are again.
1910-1922 April 2010
first edition: "Rzeczpospolita" ("Plus Minus") April 30 - May 3, 2010
0 comments:
Post a Comment