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[efebos]

— The mountain forest by Kazimierz Przerwa-Tetmajer, trans. Antoni Gronowicz

Transcription under the cut

With slow and gilded motion / Across the blue of space / Go clouds in velvet glory / In snow-radiant, golden chase.

Drawn from the earthen quiver / The swallow, sharp and slender, / Slips like silvered arrow / Against the sunmail splendor.

A rainbow frame encircles / The calm and shining meadow; / Within the darkeyed brooks / Float flakes of golden shadow.

And down through the dim, the green forest / Like grass tongues, pours its lustre, / Or flutters in the branches / Its winging, burning clusters.

On skies, on fields, on forests, / Evading all pursuit, / The great sun, high over blue path / Hangs like a ripening fruit.