KRYSTYNA KONECKA

KRYSTYNA KONECKA

AND WEALTH OF GRASSES IN MY HANDS

And wealth of grasses in my hands close to my eyesight

and the yachts with wings on their way to encounter wind

compass of the mast in the skies with clattering sail.

Oars of my shell moving towards fifth corner of the world.

Thought is descending abruptly into the depth like

anxiety sculptured by the clouds. Surrounded by

the wave forgetting of the paddles in senseless shock

I am praying that the island’s outline does not sink.

From salutary Ordow straigh to Slupianska Bay

once again the wave’s resistance and treacherous deep

quivering muscles and piercing staccato of blood.

At night forest murmurs caringly and from the height

the moon discovers an unhappy child inside me.

So what about this pretense that I can face the world…

TRANSLATED BY EWA SHERMAN, ENGLAND

SO WHAT ABOUT THIS PRETENSE…

So what about this pretense that I can face the world…

The steep slope descending towards the banks of Necko

was witness of my defeat of yesterday’s summer

when I just about became a prey to greedy waves.

Or maybe it was required? Was it a great loss

not to perceive the gardens of green from the reserve

where under the water lens the fish in silver robes

with determination avoid the motionless nets.

From the over vantage point I can see watchful boats

here the shore below Borki overgrown with rushes

and the wave gently advances to meet the seagulls.

There was no place for me in the glimmering whirlpools.

Seemingly not on the banks of the royal city

I will arrive – a little roach – to my marina.

TRANSLATED BY EWA SHERMAN, ENGLAND

IN THE DEW

This moment early in the morning. On the border of dream.

The seasonal reservoir for the chosen by fate.

Suffice to get the start of sun and – before it absorbs the dew

- to see how the earthy world prepares for life.

Meadow, field – like the miror. On the other side

royal treasury tempts – although it is reduced.

Diamond tiaras sparkle on the temples of

mulleins, poppies, grass and moss on the stones.

Ladybirds’ babies and the frail children

of grasshoppers have to make first steps

through grass aqueducts and the drawbridges.

A looped fly in the transparent necklaces pearls.

Spider’s train in the diamonds. Till the high sun

turns the miror of the lawn onto the right side.

TRANSLATED BY EWA SHERMAN, ENGLAND

KRYSTYNA KONECKA

KRYSTYNA KONECKA is a poet and journalist. She was born in Dobiegniew (Poland) in the family of repatriates from Vilnius (now Lithuania). She started her education in Gorzów Wielkopolski, and finished her secondary education in Tychy. Since 1979 she lives in Białystok. She has a MA degree in Polish Philology (Warsaw University) and she completed postgraduate studies of Culture and Education (Silesian University). She worked as a teacher for four years and since 1972 she has been working in journalism (‘Echo’ in Tychy, ‘Kontrasty’ and ‘Gazeta Współczesna’ in Białystok) and contributed articles to many magazines published in Warsaw. She has been working as photographer for a number of years and her numerous photographs have been published in magazines and presented at various exhibitions. Krystyna Konecka is a member of The Polish Writers’ Union (Warsaw branch). In poetry she favours sonnets. Her first volume of poetry ‘Sonety codzienne’ (Everyday Sonnets) (Katowice, 1978) was the beginning of her literary experiences with the form of sonnet and the wreath of sonnets (sonnetti a corona). She is an author of nearly twenty books of poetry and reportages. Her poems have been published in Polish and foreign periodicals and anthologies. For her achievements poetry and journalism (reportages on social issues, literary and theatrical criticism, articles on the culture) Krystyna Konecka has received literary awards and was highly regarded by critics. She attends the international literary meetings.