Posty

Wyświetlanie postów z sierpień, 2012

Summer Lure (song version)

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Summer Lure work, don't work, get old, ignore it, be happy suicidal winds will carry the rays of the sun summer lure, make me sure summer lure, elude and cure water runnig past the pebbles, go to the sun evaporate, dance with fireflies, blissful summer lure, make me pure summer lure, never injure ice melts, flowers die so suddenly, rotten gems think of gone, don't think, now is time to unfold existence, find consistence summer lure, so mature and then the winter comes too quickly all I want to cuddle turns out prickly no future defined, seize the watch, never judge stride with care, ignore yourself, be happy summer lure, reassure summer lure, I'll endure fot. M. Walczak

Night Table (final)

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On my night table, there is a ring That was supposed to join forever A thrown bracelet will ting A necklace that may sever On my pillow there rest my dreams That meant to finally come true A specked window pane seems To shadow what is right due I watch but I can't see I know but can't take in Have name, but no ID Have conquered, but never win I should have done so many things so far I could have gone around  the world I needn't have spent my youth in a bar I must have been stone cold I pick my plastic pride from the pocket And get some happiness instead But there's that notion, seems to rocket If you sow nothing, what can you get And some people around me will claim I am a hypocrite.....right Guess all my excuses are lame So let me take that 'roller-caster' ride I watch but I can't see I know but can't take in Have name, but no ID Have conquered, but never win I should have done so many things so far I co

Coffee Man (rough version)

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Coffee  man a story by Krzysztof Sowiński, my translation They stood in front of me… Aiming at me with their automatic arms. It was just like a film. We’ve seen such sights so many times that, instead of being petrified, we raise our heads higher and higher, driven by curiosity and disbelief this has happened to us, when it actually happened. And that’s a mistake. They were aiming with one of those most up-to-date machine guns that a man has ever invented to harm another man. Such guns aren’t carried by ordinary bobbies. Those mates were probably in their forties (about my age), not any squirts just starting their ‘career’ in the elite unit. But… unlike many of their peers, who already had enormous bellies and awkward slow motion and made up for neglecting their bodies only with their self-confidence, and every weekend, having had some beers, when in fighting spirit and with an active reproduction instinct (with every woman but his wife), they felt again as yo

dym/smoke

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Puściłam Cię z dymem. Z ostatniego papierosa. Lekko odeszły wszystkie ciężkie uczucia. Musisz wiedzieć, że Ci przeszło koło nosa Coś, co nigdy bez zmagań nie wróci. I let you go off with a smoke. Of  the last fag.. See how lightly flow all hard feelings. Know you've thrown away like an old rag Something that now you'll be only stealing. Such is the tale on and on and ever To let go means one is clever Tak się w kółko i stale dzieje Odpuszczam mądrze i nie szaleję.

London Language Lesson

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London Language Lesson a story by Krzysztof Sowiński, my translation In Memory of Edward Stachura This English language school for adults is run by a plump and beautiful black Canadian, whose each little braid in her elaborate coiffure smiles… as long as you… pay. This school consists of several quite dirty classrooms, long-ago-painted walls. Once in a while, when a whole group of  students will fall asleep, heads – weary of hard daily duties - on the desks, and even the teacher will take a nap in the middle of a sentence or a gesture – then, there runs across the room, encouraged by the silence and smell of biscuits, sour odour of sweat, dirty bodies, a courageous rat-polyglot. The school boasts its signboard: “New Life!” Lesson number 1 - My name’s Imran. I come from India . - My name’s Mo. I come from Iran . - My name’s Draman. I come from Mali , Africa . - My name’s Paweł. I come from Poland . - My name’s Marta. I come from Poland . - My name’s C

Tree girl (song version)

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A distorted tree sprung from a stone Wall that was unbreached And my every bone Rotten, rotten T he place maketh me grow from ashes I'll be a shadow for the tree That's still a seed in ground but flashes up and up it grows through me Water no longer moves the mill with eaves A  trunk from the leg  My face made of leaves Rotten, rotten T he place maketh me grow from ashes I'll be a shadow for the tree That's still a seed in ground but flashes up and up it grows through me Does matter matter? But how? Will it survive? Will it die now? A ghost in the machine? Nature's child? Worms' cuisine? F ools' feast? At least...

Somewhere in the forest (song version)

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Sour winds more bitter than memory Catching the thoughts in icicles Sour winds more bitter than memory Catching the thoughts in icicles Are we at all sorry? By the stone wartime grave, I know Thou art my burden though you bestow Trees wrinkled with time Or maybe bullets are still looking for their way out Of the forest Way out of the forest, no doubt The fault is not mine By the stone wartime grave, I know Thou art my burden though you bestow Forgive the others, forgive yourself Your troop is far away Forgive the others, forgive yourself Your troop is far away, a confusion Your country's a distant illusion Winds will melt diamond tears Do windmills care which state they grind in? Scattered stones scar the slopes But no-one clears the moss Under the starred blue sky We're children of the void By the stone wartime grave, I know Thou art my burden though you bestow

A visit /Hungry I am

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Over  the soaring hills, proud palaces and churches claim their place White angels of towers are dancing in the mists of dawn Here, on the other bank, each building wants to embrace And reflect the beauty of its twin town, beauty never gone Running on my sore feet, running to chase the ghosts My reflection in the windows with such pursuit always boasts Over the cobbled streets, people flow in the quest to find joy or clue Stop under colourful umbrellas to remember what they're running for The chains carry the steel desire to glue what wasn't one but two Time that's been always dissolving fast now is spreading slow Running on my sore feet, running to chase the ghosts My reflection in the windows with such pursuit always boasts Under the mirror of water, the hole in the ground, tempting us, lurks Accommodating dark-skinned rappers, pharaohs and winemakers With lips still sweet of tasting the liquors from ashes, and his quirks And his eyes of a murdere

Form (3)

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How many years must have passed To sort out some things that last Those should have gone away though Many, many moons ago How many wrinkles must come To understand that it's far and done Can I keep up with the river's flow Or rather give up and let it go? Where are the winds that carry my thoughts away? Go ahead, my hands, feel and caress the clay Until you form a better me And I'll put my mind into it and make you see How many strings must break up Until I see the bottom of the cup With no links no vest no boat I still feel that I can float How many cries must have gone How many sighs before the dawn To give up trying to let go free Or rather keep it and make you see Where are the winds that carry my thoughts away? Go ahead, my hands, feel and caress the clay Until you form a better me And I'll put my mind into it and make you see unconquerability,  unpredictability, impossibility, undefinability,  shall I question their  attractivene

Parting

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It's easier not to say goodbye and turn away The game we played It's harder when you have to stand Remembering all the things Some wise men say I need to part with you and let you go Such grain of truth But how can you divide so merciless What should be still one? And the time's never right To justify why this should be done And the day always comes Too early to go You really ought to pass this post and leave today Why can't you stay What are those hopeless circumstances My eyelashes getting wet No man can say we need to part with you, I can't let you go 'Cos this is cruel You never can divide so merciless What will always be one And the time's never right To justify why this should be done And the day always comes Too early to say goodbye Where are your velvet cheeks, where are they now, they're gone for good Where is your sweet strong voice, please share.... And the time's never right To justify why this should

My Trouble

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... czyli o piesiu Kłopotku ;) ... a song for my dog ;) When you came into my life You could walk only to the sides Smelled like milk that has gone off Soft like silk, with needle-like claws Now that you have grown so old Need my help so let me hold You when climbing up the stairs Wag your tail, be free from cares Wag, wag - they say you're a hooligan Wag, wag - and that you're not very smart Wag, wag - I'd say you're the sweetest thing Wag, wag - though not as quick as a dart (in the uptake) to be continued...