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Poetry

Adjectival Poem

By Piotr Sommer
Translated from Polish by W. Martin & Christian Hawkey
An impressionist oil painting of a country house with trees and a garden in front of it.
"Spring in France" (1890) by Robert William Vonnoh. Wirt D. Walker Fund. Courtesy of the Art Institute of Chicago. Public Domain.

Amazing spring, warm, humid
and full of backlit trees
in various colors, even if it’s still unclear
which ones, except for the rhododendron, which one way or another
stays in shape, though it’s just a bush,
and the unfurling leaves of the maple.
And the greenery in the flowerbeds, which is green
even at night. “Also in the dark?”
Also in the dark. Amazing,
silly, and even in such dark moments lucid
days, because for starters, days, and nights,
because of nights. Not at all, I’ve had nowhere near enough.
Though of course at home the lilac’s roots
slowly snake their way toward your head,
and the lilacs already begin to bloom and fall
on account of the sun, also at the head.
The humidity dries or seeps in, and the sun
shines now on the lids of garbage cans
and snouts of wells, but clearly only by day.
It’s foolish to talk and talk without stopping,
without, at bottom, having anything to say,
at most only on the surface, to see.
It’s silly to talk your ear off
(amazing, that this came into your head).

Translation of “Wiersz przymiotnikowy.” Copyright Piotr Sommer. By arrangement with the author. Translation copyright 2011 by W. Martin and Christian Hawkey. All rights reserved.

English Polish (Original)

Amazing spring, warm, humid
and full of backlit trees
in various colors, even if it’s still unclear
which ones, except for the rhododendron, which one way or another
stays in shape, though it’s just a bush,
and the unfurling leaves of the maple.
And the greenery in the flowerbeds, which is green
even at night. “Also in the dark?”
Also in the dark. Amazing,
silly, and even in such dark moments lucid
days, because for starters, days, and nights,
because of nights. Not at all, I’ve had nowhere near enough.
Though of course at home the lilac’s roots
slowly snake their way toward your head,
and the lilacs already begin to bloom and fall
on account of the sun, also at the head.
The humidity dries or seeps in, and the sun
shines now on the lids of garbage cans
and snouts of wells, but clearly only by day.
It’s foolish to talk and talk without stopping,
without, at bottom, having anything to say,
at most only on the surface, to see.
It’s silly to talk your ear off
(amazing, that this came into your head).

Wiersz przymiotnikowy

Zdumiewająca wiosna, ciepła, wilgotna
i pełna podświetlonych drzew
w różnych kolorach, choć nie wiadomo jeszcze
jakich, poza rododendronem, co tak czy owak
trzyma fason, ale to tylko krzak,
i wykluwającymi się listkami klonu.
No i zielenią w klombach, co jest zielona
nawet w nocy. „Po ciemku też?”
Po ciemku też. Zdumiewające,
głupie i przejrzyste w takiej ciemnej chwili
dni, bo jednak na początek dni, i noce,
bo i noce. No skądże, wcale nie mam dość.
Choć oczywiście w domu korzenie bzu
powoli pełzną w stronę twojej głowy
a kwiaty bzu już zaczynają kwitnąć i opadać
z powodu słońca, też od strony głowy.
Wilgoć wysycha albo wsiąka i słońce
błyszczy sobie teraz na pokrywach od śmietników
i pyskach studni, ale rzecz jasna tylko w dzień.
To niepoważne bez ustanku mówić, mówić,
nie mając w gruncie rzeczy nic do powiedzenia
a co najwyżej na powierzchni, do zobaczenia.
To głupie, dać zagadać się na śmierć
(zdumiewające, że to przyszło ci do głowy).

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