MÓJ WIERSZ NA ANGLOJĘZYCZNYM PORTALU SPILLWORDS.COM
https://spillwords.com/regular-people/
Kategoria: JĘZYK ANGIESLKI / ENGLISH
Kolejny mój wiersz opublikowany w USA
W USA ukazała się 20 jubileuszowa antologia „Contemporary Writers of Poland”. Została opracowana i wydana przez Danusię Danuska Blaszak ❤️❤️ i Annę Marię Anna Maria Mickiewicz ❤️❤️. Znalazł się w niej także mój wiersz przełożony na English przez moją córkę Kalinę. A to wersja polska:
x x x
wiejski głupek
siedzi przy grobie matki
obejmując rękami kolana
i kołysząc się
powtarza:
mama w ziemi
ziemia w mamie
ZOSTAŁAM POETKĄ MIESIĄCA NA PORTALU EPUBLISHER / I’M A POET OF THE MONTH FEBRUARY
Na zaproszenie Daivy Malinauskiene z Wilna zostałam poetką miesiąca lutego na międzynarodowym portalu ePublisher. Moje utwory zostały tam zaprezentowane w trzech wersjach językowych: po polsku, litewsku i angielsku.
https://www.epublisher-platform.eu/pl/poets
https://www.epublisher-platform.eu/pl/poets/maria-duszka/id-26
Kilka moich nowych utworów przełożonych na English przez Marka Marciniaka.
X X X
we remain in modern marriages
which are free and open
with time with the fading hope
that some day at last
we happen to enter
an old-fashioned marriage
miraculously closed
X X X
someone said
one could not despair
when one looked at the sky
at your funeral
I was observing clouds all the time
I did not belong to those women
who had the right to cry
X X X
I took photos of this countryside
as
if kissing
the body of the beloved man
side by side
Mantras
Once there was a propaganda of success
now there is a propaganda of poverty
I have been hearing this for years:
„Poland is poor”
and „ No money for any property”
Look Into My Eyes
(why do people think they can tell me everything?)
for years he has been visiting the hospital library
a retired economist
an atheist, thinking, searching,
his son died in a car accident recently
„I have not told anybody about it
but I will tell you”
„it was eighteen months ago
I borrowed some books from the District Library
I went to the park behind the Municipal Office
I sat on the bench
started reading
after a while a man sat close to me
he looked thirty
had bright red hair and a beard
started to talk to me
asked what I was reading
(usual talk)
suddenly he stood up, went a few steps
came back
his eyes were glittering with burnt yellow fire
look into my eyes!
he said
why don’t you look into my eyes?!
I was horrified
he weanted to appraoch me
but I made a sign of a cross three times
from the right, in the middle and from the left
he could not approach me closer
than the distance of six meters
it was a devil
that was eighteen months ago
I cannot pull myself together
I do not know what to think about it
I accepted it as a warning for me”
Tym razem przełożony na English cały tomik pt. „Galeria Świat”.
THE GALLERY WORLD
(AUTHOR) Autorka : Maria Duszka, Ludowa Spółdzielnia Wydawnicza 2007
x x x
we still know nothing
we are like children
standing at the doorstep
x x x
today I will visit you
my heart is above me
like a lark
THE QUESTION
For Sławek
we parted without words
time accustoms itself to loneliness
only when I come here
birches
jasmines
grass and mulleins
are asking
what I am doing here
without you
x x x
standing by the window
I surrender to space
I stop the time
x x x
before I met you
I liked only
that birch wood
the meadow
the dark sappy strip of alders
and the tender air above them
they sufficiently fulfilled
my need
to admire something
and you came
obscuring the trees
the meadow
with peace and indifference
equalling theirs
you accept my love
x x x
I was at the bottom
many times
I was deep
then saved by the Lord
He sent for me
when I was at the bottom
x x x
I lie in the forest
birches bless me
with their branches
Małyń 1997
x x x
the first love
like a lightning
shows an open sky
then darkness
for long
x x x
for heart anxiety
a prayer
like a sleeping pill
or
a thought of your hands
so gentle
so safe
x x x
„Everything is more and more grey now… „
K.
the birds sang
their „carpe diem”
in burning trees
that autumn
now
when you are absent
more often
I do not approach the window
urgently I do anything
not to hear their singing
to forget
that you usually were here
at that time
x x x
„What is smaller or bigger than a hand touch…”
Paul Eluard
it’s been a year
you would come cold in the snow
asking
what did you do with me
and you – with me…
I watched the night lamp
x-raying your eyes from aside
we would listen
„do not be afraid of love…”
I would observe you come
and go
it’s been a year
with the hand touch
as clean and light as snow
you wake light in me
x x x
A village fool
sits at his mother’s grave
taking his knees in hands
swinging
he repeats:
„mum in ground
ground in mum…”
x x x
you tell me
you want everything
and I just want to live
in your heart
as if it were a safe home
x x x
when sitting facing me
you said „ as the talk to her…”
I was sure
you overestimated your and my abilities
„propheting the coming of summer thunder”
I learned all your good
and your evil
wisely did I reject
meetings and telephones
I destroyed and threw out
all the little things
you gave me
this town is more and more full of you
I am like a leaf weakly sticking to the branch
the hurricane pushes me in your direction
x x x
sometimes I envy
the dog
which is petted by you
x x x
a prayer:
pushing off the darkness
x x x
you wise astronomer
why did you share with us
your knowledge
that the earth is
a revolving
sphere
in the sky abyss
we would be calmer
having
under our feet
a motionless
flat sphere
of undefined thickness
(even if protected
by Atlas’ shoulders)
x x x
the most faithful reflection of the world
is not the face
of evil
or good
nor is it the face
of the one
who knows
almost everything
but
it is the face of an idiot
x x x
in my wardrobe I hanged
your jacket
all my clothes
want to be close to it
x x x
when we are to die
(though earlier we said
it was not worth living)
the world takes colours
and clear contours
like a summer in August
and all the moments
which were
and which still could be
are suddenly highly valued
x x x
birds sing
in the burning branches of trees
summer is gone
x x x
to wash off you from myself I use the hands eyes lips
of other men I take trips with them to anywhere
send them letters and smiles dye my hair for them
which turned grey beacuse of you and when you are back
I mock you and offend you with my last (which one?)
farewell letter
no progress in forgetting
x x x
trees are
what was left for us
from paradise
x x x
when you met me
the house was filled
with great silence
silently we listened to the prophecy
„we will wake up nestled…”
today we sit among grass
I listen to your monologue:
the best poetry
I know
your hands
and herbs
so close
far ahead of us
a town
kids playing kites
„ at the summer noon…”
x x x
grey colour has many shades
I noticed it recently
in your eyes
x x x
autumn is drowned in rain and fog
you do not leave my thoughts
I drown peacefully
in your eyes
in your hands
x x x
you tell me
you want everything
for me it is enough
to look through the window
on your side
and think you are here
x x x
after twenty two years
from the beginning of our love
we talk about men
who are running double life
they have wives and mistresses
(they can afford it)
I ask
would you like to live
like they do
„I think I would like you doubled”,
you answer
x x x
a lift to heaven
to your flat
on the eighth floor
x x x
common women
give birth to children
God muddles up CVs
of poetesses
so that they give birth
to poems
x x x
every evening
I report by phone
to you all my actions
ups and downs
I start from „ I got up at 7 AM…”
you listen
and then you say
„I also got up at 7 AM today
I went to the bathroom
and went to sleep”
it’s been years since I cannot decide
which one of us is right
x x x
I like to know
the place I am standing
even if it is
a bottom
x x x
June is
like
being eighteen years of age
„TO THOSE WHO GIVE MUCH WILL BE GIVEN”
„ I always work
as best as I can
why then I always
suffer from paucity”,
she complained to God in her prayer
next day she was given a reply
the best reply of all possible
„be generous for yourself and for the others”
x x x
stop
look through the window
(there is
nearly always
a poem
down there)
NEARLY EVERYBODY TURNED THEIR BACK
it was a beautiful October
Szymborska won the Nobel Prize
every day I was visited
by a drunk criminal
he claimed to love me
and if I were not with him
he would kill me and himself
I advised him to start off killing from himself
he seemed not to have noticed the joke
the policemen said
they could start an action against him
only when he killed me
a VIP from cultural department said
„no wonder you face those problems
when you write such poems”
one of my man brothers said
„you have count only on yourself”
the man of my life
of whom I wrote about
my best poems said
„ I am not involved
as I am here
and it happens there”
and God made me aware
just then
that He wants gratitude from me
for the life
as it is
I live
I am grateful
I worship my loneliness
PALM SUNDAY, 2005 AFTER THE BIRTH OF CHRIST
„ with that He bowed His head
and gave up His Spirit”
we kneel
the man in front of me
yawns
THE FREE MAN
he pushed his wheelbarrow with cardboard
his eyes were beyond that
the ragamuffin with charisma
x x x
„ you who wronged a simple man
bursting into laughter at the crime”
Czesław Miłosz
in 1980 they said
„we fight for workers’ dignity”
in 2004
to the unemployed
who came
for a job interview
enters a little director
of a small company and says
„ I need five himbos
and five cows…”
x x x
Let’s fight one another,
Poles
our neighbours
(enemies)
already
(again)
are rubbing their hands
x x x
you are getting sober:
hold me tight
coz I feel
I am becoming
a human garbage
x x x
why do we multiply?
why do we produce weapons
on our planet Earth?
THE CICUTA OF KNOWLEDGE
he said before his death
„life is so
that those
who take it from us
are our benefactors”
then,
Socrates,
what
with our parents?…
x x x
my mother delivered me
to the world
my mother is good
gentle
and simple
like a child
I cannot blame her
that she turned me in
to the world
Małyń 1986
LOVE AT FIRST SIGHT
we talked
in a distance from us
a little four-year-old boy
wearing a yellow/navy-blue jacket
stopped
looking at you,
a man approaching fifty,
he said „come here”
we did not stop talking
after a while the boy strongly repeated
„come here”
„why should I come to you?”,
you asked
„coz I have only my mummy”
AFTER 20 YEARS OD LIVING IN SIERADZ
a Sunday afternoon
acacias and clovers in full bloom
their smell takes me
to a different time and place
causing pain
I will never be „from here”
THE GALLERY WORLD
snow flakes
tree leaves
none of them is repeated
God is a perfect artist
x x x
I am left at home alone
submerged in silence and solitude
after an hour
I feel like phoning you
to tell you
how well I feel at home alone
x x x
he is bright
gentle
and true
as a touch
of a birch twig
LOVE
I have not seen you for many days
you are standing now
facing me
like a sea
I am standing facing you
helpless
x x x
before you turned up
I had dreamt off your eyes
and all the heaven
of years shared with you
x x x
years rolling on
round and empty
I wait for a few summer days
a touch of your lips
must suffice
for the next year
or for good
the blood in my veins
changes
into waiting
pulsating
and turning me
in your direction
nothing better
than your arms
x x x
you gave me love
like a storm
like a sharp knife
you gave me love
full of light and air
x x x
I wake up
at four AM
in my thoughts a trace of a prayer
from before going to sleep
so as not to suffer
from each moment
of your absence
at four AM
an answer for a prayer comes
reminding me some lines of a song:
„ which one of our loves
is just
the last one…?”
x x x
so many times
I kissed this love goodbye
it was covered by yellow leaves
it was parted by our time
like a fog
one summer
we could not find ourselves
and thought
nothing could save us
but suddenly
dry leaves leave it
the fog is gone
our hearts again high above us
and our love is green again
x x x
I told you on the phone
I am bored with talks to you
(I lied,
you have been silent for two weeks)
you see
I am a clever student
in your school
of dealing blows
x x x
he looked through the window
in a very foggy morning
„oh, the world is gone…”
x x x
meeting you accidentally
as if God
petted me on the cheek
x x x
I am woken up
by a steady rainy blues
an autumn morning
x x x
a day in my travel
I do not open a book
I read the world
x x x
the Lord has done
great things for me
He gave me a sandy road
in a field with birches
a blackthorn
and wild roses
a wanderer with eyes
of a clear sky
a cordial arnica
and field pears
I can go where
only sky
field and wind exist
x x x
in memory of people close to me
and yet it seemed
they would last forever
in that chamomile yard
in that warm house
in that safe bed
they are blown out by time – one by one
A MORNING
in memory of Zbyszek Dominiak
I am afraid to open my eyes
I am afraid to open the curtains
the world is a scorpion
x x x
when cherries bloom
the Japanese
do not work
they celebrate a holiday
even in big town centres
they sit for several days
under the blooming trees
feeling no pity for elapsing time
they sit until cherry petals are gone
filled up with the beauty they go back to work
at my housing development
an old plum orchard
was cut down unnecessarily
the neighbours say
it will be order here at last
we will not be a second Japan
E N G L I S H
About me
I was born on April, 28th in Zduńska Wola, Poland.
I am a poet, journalist and librarian. As a poet I debuted in 1981 in „Nowy Medyk”. My poems have also been published in „Tygiel Kultury”, „Poezja Dzisiaj”, „Przekrój”, „Metafora”, „Filipinka”, „Topos”, „Modern Haiku” (USA), „Reibeisen” (Austria), „Bdenje” (Serbia) and in the following antologies:
– „Contemporary Writers of Poland” (USA 2005),
– „Enough Questions, Enough Answers : Modern Polish Poetry in Translation” ( Rice Uniwersity w Houston, 2008),
– „Uwalniam ptaki sny : Ich befreie Vogel – Traume – Polish and German poems: Deutsche und polnische Gedichte” (Łódź 2009),
-”Oblaci u najkracoj noci : Clouds in the shortest night” – svetska haiku antologija: World Haiku Anthology”(Valjevo – Belgrad 2009),
– „Meine Welt – unsere Welt : Lyrik und Prosa” (Germany 2011).
I am a laureate of many literature competitions and C. K. Norwid Poetry International Competition. I have published seven books of poetry: „Poezja przypadków” („Poetry of Accidents”), „Zupełnie szczęśliwa marionetka” („A Quite Happy Puppet”), „Może się przyśnisz” („Maybe You’ll be Dreamed About”), „Nieopisanie” („Undescription”), „I pomyśleć, że jesteś” („And Thinking, You Do Exist”, „Kora” („Bark”), „Galeria świat” („Gallery World”) and „Freienwill”
As a journalist I work with Sieradz press (the city where I live) and Łódź cultural monthly journal „Kalejdoskop”. I run a library in a hospital in Sieradz.
Poems
Translation: Marek Marciniak & Kalina Duszka
x x x
the eyes of animals
are always pure
the animals do not have a soul
or remorse
it looks at me
scrutinizing
carefully
I do not have curage
to look them in the eyes
x x x
a village crackpot
sits at his mother grave
embracing his knees
and rocking he is repeats:
mother in the ground
the ground in mother
x x x
years are going by
round
and empty
I’m waiting for several summer days
the touch of your lips
must suffice
for next year
or forever
blood in my veins
changes in expectation
pulsating
and turning me
to your side
there is nothing better
than your arms
x x x
I was at the bottom
not once
I was in the depth
My Lord saved me
He sent for me
when I was at the bottom
x x x
I’m lying in forest
birches are blessing me
with their branches
x x x
the first love
like a lightning
shows an open sky
then for a long time
darkness
SLEEPWALKER
I loved the moon
and when it
turned away
my silver way
ended suddenly
I had not know
that there could be
so far
to stars
and to poeple
x x x
sometimes I envy
the dog
which you pet
x x x
I have hung your jacket
in my wardrobe
all my clothes
want to be close to it
x x x
when you are silent
silence is
like just before
the end of my world
when you are speaking
I am obedient your whisper
and I am dancing on the back of your hand
x x x
you tell me:
you want everything
and for me it is enough
to look through the window
at your side
and think
that you exist
x x x
before I met you
I had liked just
that brich forest
meadow
dark vivid strip of alder
and tender air above it
It had been enough
to fulfill my need
to worship something
and you have come
you veiled the trees meadow
and the same as they do
with calmness and indifference
you accept my love
QUESTION
we parted without words
time of becoming used to
loneliness
only when I came here
birch
jasmine
grass and mulleins
are asking
what I am doing here
without you
x x x
greyness has many colours
I have discovered it recently
in your eyes
x x x
I have said goodbye to that love so many times
yellowed leaves were carpeting it
time like a mist
was separating us
one summer
we could not find each other
and we though
– nothing would save us anymore
but suddenly
the dried leaves are falling of it
the mist is melting
and our love is green again
x x x
he looked through the window
in a very misty morning:
“oh, there is no world…”
x x x
trees
– are what is left for us
from paradise
x x x
22 years
after the beginning of our love
we talk about men
that live double life
-they have wife and lovers
(because they can afford that)
I ask
if you would like to live like they do
you reply
“I think I would like to have doubled you”
x x x
June is like
being
eighteen years old
x x x
stop
look through the window
(there is
nearly always)
a poem around
Translation: Marek Marciniak
x x x
in memory of people close to me
and it seemed
they would last forever
in that camomile yard
in that warm house
in that safe bed
time blows them up one after another
A Goodnight Phone Talk
Version 1:
– Hold on…
– What am I to hold?
– My love
Version 2:
– Keep well…
– What am I to keep?
– My love
x x x
love was for you
„ a horrible word
meaning fucking and subjugation”
love was the word
you did not utter
once you said to me:
„ coming here
brings me pleasure,
not coming here brings me pain”
and
„let it be so
until it is so”
yesterday I got books
returned by you
on top there was
a collection of poems
by Majakovski „I love”
X X X
God
with his love
is unprotected
X X X
Oh, to hug myself
to the thought of you
and to fall asleep
X X X
What does loneliness
consist of?
emptiness
X X X
I have my head in the clouds
I have a poem in my head
a never-ending poem of you
X X X
you logged
in my head
your gentle words
follow me
our voices
kiss
by phone
X X X
we remain
in modern relationships
free and open
with the fading hope for
the occurrence
of the old-fashioned relationship
wonderfully closed
X X X
„ I hate women
I am a womanizer
I am a virtuous man”,
you introduced yourself to me day by day
„ he is a poet
though he is not aware of it”,
so said about you
our common female friend
X X X
Where are poetesses from?
B.
I was a girl
of a bad home
but my yard
faced
a holy birch wood
but a rich red rose
gave its flowers to us
through the window
and mum used to sing songs
once she told me
she would go mad
if she could not sing
everything turned into poetry
The Gallery WORLD
snow flakes
tree leaves:
none is to be repeated
God is a perfectional artist
