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To Agnieszka


she was like a butterfly
unaware of her life
(but who really is aware?)
life stood at her rear
and struck with its whole
she fell down
her broken wings
became heavy
but she ---
experienced psychologist
repeated and repeated
to her own wings
that they must be
much stronger
to stir --- to wake up
their life
(for sure she cried:
Up! Stir up!)
she tried to raise
the wings --- in this way
to make herself
to vomit
my strong sister
as I could never be
so strong
(no one could)
her wings painted
in gayer colours





So calm, so calm...


I dreamt
about my grandmother
she was old and tired
faded as a dry rose
'I want to die'
she said looking
somewhere far, far away
behind herself
'Three times I had
a dream
that I was dying
do not worry
I want to die
I can't be dying
so long'




you go
where gates
are half-opened
between here and there
you go to disappear
between them




they were sitting on the bench
and looked as a theatre-decoration
gazing at each other
the leaves were falling
on their bodies
they won't ever stand up
they won't be able to bow
they won't be able to move
from the stage
as too old to their roles
and on the branch
over their heads
pigeon and dove
are waiting...




in your garden there is
an arbour like in Czechow's dramas
blossoming apple trees
and a lime-tree at the fence
your dreams are searching
the Moon
and a cat is purring
'cause she heard an owl whisper
into your made up garden
came my strayed thoughts



© reserved by Remigiusz Grzela


From: Remigiusz Grzela, Trees believe deeply. Poetry [Drzewa wierza naprawde], published in Poland by Grupa Wydawnictwo Pomorskie, Tczew 2001, translated by the author.




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