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| Sławomir Różyc. Songs and Ballads. Translation by Anna K. |
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6 lipiec 2010
Sławomir Różyc - rustling grasses song
We won???t have singing July???s birds
on this evening
Before the wind will carelessly sow the gray moths
After the dark
And water
will rouse napping frogs
swaying with tummies to the moon
You'll give me a hand
without worry about putting pot away
about fork
which is curling still warm perm for pasta
go to me
by fair hip, with oscillation
through the dark
just
like you anxiously looking for
bats
like white eagle-owl
is running soft breasts
with shiver
I know
they still have swimming under the eyelid
still sleeping
are swaying rose masts
from where poacher throws on the water
voiceless nets
cuz you awake such a woman, in the morning from the duvet
wind is nossing through the opened window
amazed
he can't part with wet thighs
he is even fluttering moment, helplessly
by wing
give your hand
donate us for thirsty grasses
* Translation by Anna K. assuchaj
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Ostatnio zmieniony przez assuchaj dnia Pon 13:06, 20 Wrz 2010, w całości zmieniany 3 razy
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Nie 23:18, 25 Lip 2010 |
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assuchaj
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| Sławomir Różyc. Songs and Ballads. Translation by Anna K. |
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30 lipiec 2010
Sławomir Różyc - Song about the mirror
You run to me
With outstretched hand, through the bazaar
on the stalls
August sluggishly stretches himself
Soon
In platos, oranges will appear
and you run
so waving with this linened dress
just if you petitioned
against marriage
cuz you still don't need a bra
that???s why I put an apple in your hand
here, so little and smells with life
among bulging, with English names
but you just have passed fibrous tomatoes
butcher's shop
with windows marked by red prices
where elixirs are not adding to meat
after which owner awake with headache
we choose last cauliflower
cuz I just said goodbye to my old orchard
the last walk with fingers on the branches
the last catching leaves by mouth
now we have to holding hands
soon we'll wide open our wardrobes
and we'll scatter
racial tickets on the couches
liberal guards will be surprised
Insurance agents
our homes Telecommunications
because, where today can go person in military jacket ?
And nobody go after us
In this time
When cheaper will deputizes us
Dreams will be cheaper
And apparatus of smile
And only phones more expensive
In this time
Will calling on the breasts
We on the Great Bear will marking our Flanders
Till on the Polonyny we'll find wild orchard
apple-trees,
will give birth for us for Spring
In the night, moon with cold Dante???s smile
Will learnt us how put blackthorn swirling into the open window
You???ll setting snares
From peels I'll sew a fur for you
Into it you cuddled on the winter morning
Among aroma of friendly chip
Oh, my lady in cap with fox tile
Tossing by stick acorns at cineraria
You???ll send our smoke marks by chimney
Will somebody write it in this plastic world ?
Only wolves
On the Polonyny, will sing a song
Then I'll set a mirror on the table
In the morning
When the dawn will wake up
There will be noted
Good words from you, to me
My world
* Translation by Anna K.
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Pon 13:08, 20 Wrz 2010 |
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assuchaj
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| Sławomir Różyc. Songs and Ballads. Translation by Anna K. |
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3 lipiec 2010
Sławomir Różyc - song about love quarrel, wine and bread
yesterday
but maybe last summer when I was looking on cherries
I tasted wine of mature women
and is not that
I reach for them with hand, carelessly
take mat rennet from the shelf
she is close to me with her neck
or
that she graspes fingers
there are forgotten stories
they come back like a gloss of knife in the Sun
Woman
surrenders for us like a half-eaten bread
we shake off her crumbs from the table
to oblivion
under feet
her electricity bills
her voiceless orgasms
her tights hunging in the bath
bread is cutting awry
don't come with young squash
don't think my Firm
that they don't eat you to end
cuz today
I'm good for you
but I know bouquet of cherry wines
I know what is mean
to find on the fingers
blood more and more watery
in the pupil
more white
written by swangs wings
life
even if my sails
faded on the red
even if my wrinkles
which you desire
you smooth in eyes corners
with kisses
until they unwind to shoulders
like a gray flags on the wind
I persevere
because I met galleons
I was finding disheveled islands in the morning
I was putting my lips to pagan spells
but hand is clever
when is touching still warm side
and furtively hidden cough drops
I say it to you
in dark drawer you will be waiting
where blind whisper is hanging
still bold with black tuft in the mirror
you are still dancing for touch
nobody knows why
begun just in this side
heel
* Translation by Anna K.
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Pon 13:11, 20 Wrz 2010 |
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| Sławomir Różyc. Songs and Ballads. Translation by Anna K. |
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10 wrzesień 2010
Sławomir Różyc - Ballad about Cro Magon man
In my blood is dozing rumbling for a trunk
With hands on the stone I’m painting antelopes which are running
Slim outlines and hanging on the air spears
They haven’t to fall down on wounds to your understanding
It is our fear healed for hungry
I don’t share my fear for colour or slanting eyes
maybe continents are leaving from each other
maybe I skipped with low brow Misshapens
then my not so clever heart stand on the pass
there greek man throws out bales of silk
he whimpers about Persian concubines which are promised him
oh, impolitic heart turn into human heart
when it have to defend meditation on Agora
about right angle triangle
or pillars with worm
but his galleys still ready in ports
he is starting tomorrow to find his true gods
not these sleeping in mountain and olive groves
but these merciless from fire. Water. Air
that is why we call stars by names other
cuz earth was flat and long without ending
we was proclaiming our gods who was attaching to masts
and offered for oversea’s mirrors and bales of cotton
today we are meeting in every part of earth
she is very round and it is end of travel
nobody is defending billboards and growth rates
when I sleep they give me electricity
but I am going there where standing shades on the desert
I’ persevere among them with my spear potted on the ground
Our shades will slowly going out from sand
Some day Antylopes running will be painting by Misshapen
* Translation by Anna K.
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Ostatnio zmieniony przez assuchaj dnia Pon 13:31, 20 Wrz 2010, w całości zmieniany 2 razy
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Pon 13:30, 20 Wrz 2010 |
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| Sławomir Różyc. Songs and Ballads. Translation by Anna K. |
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8 lipiec 2010
Sławomir Różyc - song about charcoal
Let's rush to flood without name
I don't ask how it was happen
that the water washes us away
without complaint
hands don't look for stems on the coast
cuz it's great in that way
ruddy cookies look so prettily in cellophane
wind is raveling streaks from the roast
on the charcoal
sizzle
this wind
which holds up tone of carefree talks
about faraway Marrakech and Balearic Islands
finds up lazy Coty in Junes morning
in hairs smells, stretchs
in hunkers
which are partitioned with little string
I constantly tune its melody by my lips
so scary about false groans
though I know
they'll dismiss me tonight in knitwear
You'll be lost in subaru, it'll lock you in perfume
by armchair and light in spectral green
and I'll probably close my eyes
I'll turn from water
and then
it will be only summer
Translation by Anna K.
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Ostatnio zmieniony przez assuchaj dnia Pon 15:10, 20 Wrz 2010, w całości zmieniany 1 raz
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Pon 15:10, 20 Wrz 2010 |
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assuchaj
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| Sławomir Różyc. Songs and Ballads. Translation by Anna K. |
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14 lipiec 2010
Sławomir Różyc - Autumn Oak's song
there
above the treetops autumnal
under the lambrequin,twilight glitters and reddens in our windows
oak, good neighbor, silently opens the doors
matched slats not see the door-frame in the morning
in darkness you clearly hear your aunts
which try on their naphthalenic hats without end
cuz this one is charming, that one has wrong pinned bow
in their whispering scattered spoons are creasing in the kitchen
you forgot to hide sugar-bowl in the lordliness of sideboard
old aunts are whispering to us about duties
only they know how to remove the stains of somebody favoritism
they'll explain, whom discreetly sprinkle by vinegar
to whom donate aplle-pie in elongated mold
and where to sew on strawberry
it is good with them, when he get lost and not come back for night
his warm seems to be sleeping on the pllow
old jackdaws walking by the branches already known
that they'lll salute you, every from its floor
neighborhood knows who drinks and has back rent
old jackdaws discreetly peeping out from the oak's hollow
their presence tacked by safety-pin to needle-heart
closed and impaled souls will never leave us
and write by twilight, redden above the oak's treetops
postman'll bring their friendly envelopes, tommorow
Translation by Anna K.
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Pon 15:22, 20 Wrz 2010 |
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assuchaj
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| Sławomir Różyc. Songs and Ballads. Translation by Anna K. |
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18 lipiec 2010
Sławomir Różyc - song about island without people
today, we'll lighting candles for poors
white
with brushed strings
brittle candles
with coating of emaciated frogs
spilling on the saucer
always in Saturday
We sit on these stairs languishing
so
we feel things that we should take with
our protracted kisses, even not given
our calfs from the quilt like an arctic panes
and cup's handle
broken on the wall
cuz sticky
July's evening surrounds us
concentration is bringing
and sentiments
of old steel mills, closed for the amen
we'll taking not many books
but for end of the world its enough
my mother doesn't visit us today
irrespective of that her hollies pictures power
end of the world
takes its start on the setting mud pie
which you're sweeping under wings
it is good to beat it with bucket
it is a splinter
it sticks from us out from the start
we're folding people like a little papers
to take full launches for the island without people
to have their vassaled smiles
to rip them in the morning, of singing before the mirror
of dipping nose in the cappuccino
funny
that's why in deserted steel mills are forgeing doctorates
dental works
found a business
for that
strange premier on the bilboards
always blaken his eyelashes
Translation by Anna K.
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Pon 15:37, 20 Wrz 2010 |
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| Sławomir Różyc. Songs and Ballads. Translation by Anna K. |
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12 lipiec 2010
Sławomir Różyc - song about the least star
We are walking side by side so many days
on tiptoe
You give me a shopping
and he is still there
entangled in hair
he is whispering to you
in other language you're talking in bath
I understand
somebody has to be responsible
he is farherly
in a different way you're raising breasts
front of the mirror
differently looking for buttons
later he doesn't catch them in mouth, accidentally
he will never say : My golden fishes
in a different way you look at silence around me,in the evening
and it ceases to be good
that I'm laughing all time
I'm immature
I still put away wet spoons to the drawer
yes
I know,
with sugar
but this tear
is making by him
thats why I don't save on light
and I'll tell you
I've not still like my bear-armchair
cold, without your hips on arm
I don't know
how it will be between July and August
when dresses lose their greeness so easy
and awake by warm of this blue
though
I am not able to talk about stars
my grandmother didn't learn me about it
but when you put rose to your hair
and the wind say to me:
look,
how slapdash he has dyed this cowlick
I smile
cuz it is only what I can
in breast I have a star with hair
silver
Translation by Anna K.
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Pon 15:57, 20 Wrz 2010 |
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| Sławomir Różyc. Songs and Ballads. Translation by Anna K. |
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22 czerwiec 2010
Sławomir Różyc - Hamlet is talking on the cell with Ofelia
You are mawkish, too much naked, you put your feet so young
through the burdocked moss which dried out with little flint on the mouth.
in which they taught you not to screaming in the dark ?
appreciate children. eat the diets. but best ... go off
Translation by Anna K.
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Pon 16:25, 20 Wrz 2010 |
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| Sławomir Różyc. Songs and Ballads. Translation by Anna K. |
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2 lipiec 2010
Sławomir Różyc - lonely mussel song
He
smells yours ginger hair smell
eyebrows, always whispering, you remember?
birdcherry.
you are screaming for a dream with finger on the pillow
hide flowers, slender shoulders
somewhere above the river
dejected birds
of your shoulders in white, are sitting on rail
everyone had mouth, hands and caprices
known excess of hips, rouge of wet mussel
there, clothed on nutty groan
through brown room
dim ruby of lips
only moon wasn't looking in your eyes
and concealed a secret
helpless with fingers
Translation by Anna K.
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Ostatnio zmieniony przez assuchaj dnia Pon 13:16, 18 Paź 2010, w całości zmieniany 2 razy
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Pon 13:14, 18 Paź 2010 |
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| Sławomir Różyc. Songs and Ballads. Translation by Anna K. |
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26 czerwiec 2010
Sławomir Różyc - For this, whom is not here and never was
For this, whom is not here and never was
she didn't trample barefoot the silence in this room
long after the midnight,
has her heart in her mouth, she didn't follow
in the wake of my voice
for her, to seep this ocher out from the depth of canvas
which is shining with crest in blizzard, against to light
something secret, galloping wildly
and if it was a garden. Magnolias in the alley
I remember everything by my gouache and smell
nook for the dolls, secrets and bears
little wrinkled nose: Don't call me a child
Look silly. I have breasts now
Translation by Anna K.
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Pon 13:31, 18 Paź 2010 |
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assuchaj
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| Sławomir Różyc. Songs and Ballads. Translation by Anna K. |
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23 czerwca 2010
Sławomir Różyc - Emigrants
They leave us, vanish with the cheap lines
they are speaking so silentl, waiting till speaker
will knoks off his unconsciously clutched wife hands
these shells with christmas gift for daughters
You are still enjoying your fingers by him, his warm back
still in glassy pupil far away from twilight
He won't say : on Tuesday I'll call you
his hair is brighter. havent pennant
although this shirt on England is packed by mum
Translation by Anna K.
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Pon 14:11, 18 Paź 2010 |
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assuchaj
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| Sławomir Różyc. Songs and Ballads. Translation by Anna K. |
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10 września 2010
Sławomir Różyc - Ballad about Cro Magon man
In my blood is dozing rumbling for a trunk
With hands on the stone I’m painting antelopes which are running
Slim outlines and hanging on the air spears
They haven’t to fall down on wounds to your understanding
It is our fear healed for hungry
I don’t share my fear for colour or slanting eyes
maybe continents are leaving from each other
maybe I skipped with low brow Misshapens
then my not so clever heart stand on the pass
there greek man throws out bales of silk
he whimpers about Persian concubines which are promised him
oh, impolitic heart turn into human heart
when it have to defend meditation on Agora
about right angle triangle
or pillars with worm
but his galleys still ready in ports
he is starting tomorrow to find his true gods
not these sleeping in mountain and olive groves
but these merciless from fire. Water. Air
that is why we call stars by names other
cuz earth was flat and long without ending
we was proclaiming our gods who was attaching to masts
and offered for oversea’s mirrors and bales of cotton
today we are meeting in every part of earth
she is very round and it is end of travel
nobody is defending billboards and growth rates
when I sleep they give me electricity
but I am going there where standing shades on the desert
I’ persevere among them with my spear potted on the ground
Our shades will slowly going out from sand
Some day Antylopes running will be painting by Misshapen
Translation by Anna K.
Post został pochwalony 0 razy
Ostatnio zmieniony przez assuchaj dnia Pią 20:54, 29 Paź 2010, w całości zmieniany 1 raz
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Pią 20:54, 29 Paź 2010 |
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Wszystkie czasy w strefie EET (Europa). Obecny czas to Nie 5:36, 19 Maj 2024
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