„morning” (poranek), „a world under –foot” (¶wiat pod stop±).

Tłumaczenie: Karol Chojnowski i Desmond Graham

W: AZURIA, Geelong, Australia nr 2, 2013 s. 40-42

ISSN 2200-2367

Janina Osewska


co-translated by Karol Chojnowski and Desmond Graham




from a misty lake the morning rises


like a Dervish in Konya

out of yearning for a lost God

it grabs water lilies and a grass snake

which swimming backwards and forwards

leaves the trace of its existence on the watery map

and I know

how good it feels not to be blind

and to keep looking with amazement

how good it feels not to be deaf

when the first glance of dawn

opens the concert and gives fish

the floor


I keep silent as father Anselm Grün teaches

I keep silent to the bottom of my unknowing

to fathom this dance


a world under-foot


on a meadow every foot highlights a world

of tiny things


under the lace of leaves youth and old age

the love dance of snails in the presence of

several dozen shades of green witnesses

here is born and dies the purple of thyme

while the yellows of stonecrop

different as sunrises and sunsets

climb on a stem brittle like a wafer


and the ant—ordinary and inessential—shoulders

the burden of its life for you

a crumb which you knock off into a puddle ocean

where Magellan the pond-skater sails

to a dreamed-of land and the circumferencing forest

is full of mysteries and magic


it only takes delicate hands and sensitive finger-tips

to start tasting the touch of

velvet silk satin

rough and sticky thoughts


that my second is here an hour—an hour is a day—

a day is a season and a season—a whole life



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