Oct 5, 2025
Ewa Lipska, tr. Robin Davidson and Ewa Elżbieta Nowakowska, from Love, Dear Ms. Schubert… (Miłość, droga pani Schubert…, 2013), Dear Ms. Schubert: Poems by Ewa Lipska (Princeton University Press, 2021)
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seen from United States
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Ewa Lipska, tr. Robin Davidson and Ewa Elżbieta Nowakowska, from Love, Dear Ms. Schubert… (Miłość, droga pani Schubert…, 2013), Dear Ms. Schubert: Poems by Ewa Lipska (Princeton University Press, 2021)
Echo - Ewa Lipska - Poland
Translator: Robin Davidson and Ewa Elżbieta Nowakowska (Polish)
Dear Ms. Schubert, I can’t muffle the return of
the past. The noisy quarrels of foreign languages.
I can’t mute our loud hot-headed fevers.
The escapes from home. The penetrating smells
of funerals and mint. Life in quotation marks.
I can’t isolate the minority from the screams
of the larger whole. What does the doctor say?
It’s just an untreated case of chronic echo.
I have a feeling that Dreamling shippers would like this poem from Ewa Lipska. It's called "A Free Translation From Shakespeare":
Your eyes still gaze in mine as when — morning, year one, eleventh century — caught in my billowing gown your knee could not find its way out again.
Love never changes through the ages.
Stone was and still is made of stone.
The river was and still remains a river.
Eternal love will still be love forever.
And you still think the same of me as the prince did, with whom I often swung from the trees with agile grace when I became his fair lady.
Love never changes through the ages.
Time wore its hooves out on my life.
You say goodbye to me as you said goodbye.
You say good-day to me as you said good-day.
Here once again through time's perversity.
Consigned to the protection of its hands.
Tick tock. Contemporary. Also middle-aged.
Tick tock. Sad. Happy. Argumentative.
Tick tock. Lights slowly going out.
Tick tock. In everlasting love sleeps a contemporary prince. He's past.
Contemporary-past. He slips away.
Into the night. No fret no fuss.
As though his hand still clutched his lines, good enough for Polonius.
//Ewa Lipska
In cielo
un sei di luna.
Più il calcolo
delle probabilità
per il battito del cuore.
Amore
elevato a potenza.
L’affermazione vera
che i suoi giorni sono contati
è falsa.
Ewa Lipska, Aritmetica da Il lettore di impronte digitali
“Can Always Happen” - Ewa Lipska
Corrosive times can always happen. Forever young old servant of morality. Catches trout with bare hands. A slippery salacious sin. You can always become a worse breed of pigeons. A traitor to the motherland. But motherland stays away from politics. She's a bookkeeper of centuries. She adds up. Subtracts. Takes notes. Contract expiration is out of the question. You can run away from her. Leave. Like our friend did. Longing ate away holes in his lungs. When he came back to his country he moved into an urn. Translated from the Polish by Aga Gabor da Silva
he died
from forgetting himself
'Poem' in Such Times: Selected Poems, by Ewa Lipska
“The Exam”, Ewa Lipska
The competitive examination for a king Went perfectly
On the list there were several kings And one candidate for a king
The king’s title was given to a king Who was meant to be a king
He received additional points for his heritage Spartan upbringing And for his smile Captivating them all by their necks
His answers to history questions Showed a great feeling for silence
The mandatory language Turned out to be his own
When talking about the arts He gripped the jury’s hearts
One of the jurors He gripped a bit too hard
Yes He was definitely a king
The chairman of the jury Ran out to fetch the nation In order to officially Hand it to the king
The nation Was covered In leather
translation: SrebrnaFH