#galczynski

[batri-jopa]

Konstanty Ildefons Gałczyński

WHY DOES THE PICKLE NEVER SING

The question that our title has cast in deathless bronze is painful yet so vital, we owe it a response.

If our little green friend won't sing, croon, lilt or chant, it's clear that, Heaven forfend, it most probably can't.

But what if evil stars trample its throat? If divine airs die in air-tight jars, engulfed by teary brine?

Meanwhile, time flies, alas first sunshine, then rains trickle, and still we callously pass by many a pained pickle.

1953

[Translated by S. Barańczak and C. Cavanagh]

🥒 🥒 🥒 🥒 🥒 🥒 🥒 🥒

1947

[thepolishstufflove]

Years I have loved you, stay Locked in a night and a song. Maybe eight have gone away, Maybe nine — I may be wrong. Everything faded in twilight, confusion, You and me, we’re both entangled somewhere You must be revolt and surrender, and illusion And myself, I am your beauty and your hair.

— Konstanty Ildefons Galczynski (1905-1953), Years I Have Loved You, 1938

[tanyushenka]

In your eyes shines a magic star And your heart is all of the sunbeam. Oh, I wish I could save this heart From the oblivion’s sin. Konstanty Ildefons Galczynski (Polish, 1905-1953) Russian translation: Глаза твои - два огонька, а сердце - вот исток свеченья. Я это сердце на века спасти хотел бы от забвенья. Константы Ильдефонс Галчинский (1905-1953)

[ladylierrearchive]

We śnie We śnie jesteś moja i pierwsza we śnie jestem pierwszy dla ciebie rozmawiamy o kwiatach i wierszach psach na ziemi i ptakach na niebie We śnie w lasach są jasne polany Spokój złoty i niesłychany pocałunki zielone jak paproć Albo jesteś egipska królowa jak miód słodka i mądra jak sowa a ja jestem dla ciebie jak światło.

K.I. Gałczyński

[iwongottatranslate]

The Book Talks To The Disturbed by K.I. Gałczyński

If even by the spring you will be alone, when to the swallow you will be in vain explaining what bothers you, when the hardest hour indicates the clock, trace me – and you'll find me on the shelf.

I am not enormous object, but it's hard to pass me by to whom the worry happens to be the house mistress; so sit in the best chair in your flat and bend down over me, and let the eyes flow.

Then I'll spout all the rays in the eyes and I'll be your mother and consolation, and with letters you'll chat like with the stars, that I'm as small as the heart and as big as the heart.

original here: Książka mówi do stroskanego 

[cin-eux]

Myślę, że po to są wiersze, ich ruch ku sercu człowieka, by szerzej szła, coraz szerzej przez kontynenty jutrzenka…

Konstanty Ildefons Gałczyński

[jakubgalczynski-blog]