JAGnięcy szept / AGNus whispers

today, my translation 'service' / dziś z moich 'usług' tłumaczeniowych City Phantoms Under the windows quiet dream Just as cats crawls silently O’er the roofs, too, evening walks Treading clouds with catlike paws Silence creeping round the square Tracks down some surviving words Misty streets will gladly share Cobbled spread with a whole world So, man, beware – when darkness comes Watch out and mind – your steps reach chasms A silent howl spreads thru the night The silent phantoms glide dressed up as cats The freezing glow comes out at sight Of thousand eyes, ill-omened chat Once paralyzing then observes You move, they sing their serenades Each of them – is pure lust Hold breath and stab with eyes Pierce the hollows where night hides Hear the moth inside the lamp But to deaden their foot’s sound Failed to find out where they lurk They’ll just spring out from the murk And a sole look from their eyes Ma...

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 to be continued

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 (to be continued)

can I keep your bandana can't you stay or at least can I keep your bandana will never let it fray she don't understand you will never see to your tapes let's watch that video once more it's just temporary scrapes what is this war we're fighting love, how about taming the frown rip me off my jeans, my James Dean my prince, my king of the town can I keep your bandana can't you stay or at least can I keep your bandana will never let it fray she was a passing craze, babe will she keep your Converse white? go ahead, make me your dolly Just don't let me be off your side the violets you gave me for bithday i keep them deep in my diary i'm wearing my best T-shirt, see my feeling for you's so fiery you're mine and nobody else's i'll fight to claim you my pray forever yours, serving right tell me what i sould say or.... at least... can I keep your bandana...

Woke up too early , five past six The spoon echoes loudly in my coffee Two big black crows are keeping their gig Behind the window wind starts blowing Now on a windy day Papers are haunting me Each thought is torn away How long this all is gonna be 'Cos on a windy day Trees hum their solemn song My thoughts all crack in vain Isn't this going to be too long? Whisper and whisper, whine and whine My heads resonating with that mourning Maybe there's somewhere where sun can shine But here no rays, no beams, no glowing Now on a windy day ..... This isn't going to be too long One day I'll wake up right on time And hear  nothing more but my heart's beating I'll open the window, the air's so fine I won't remember about weeping 'Cos  on a suuny day Black birds don't visit me Each thought is here to stay Blossom smiles and The Sun is shining on sunny day Every step comforts me And I think I'm here to stay Maybe ...

he, six feet plus of masculine lure when speaks it's like touching silk sweet baritone of velvety you're sir, unreachable knight, let me in she, diluting doubts in Jim photoshopping each picture to upload can I indulge  my  every whim and goad and goad and goad can't you read my message I need a reply without any feedback I'm lost and wry and wry and wry he, walking mindlessly around taking the rapture for granted V-shaped, six-packed unbound is it happiness you have found? can't you read my message I need a reply without any feedback I'm lost and wry and wry and wry And I don't know whether I wanna be with you or you I'm really doing well, can't you? can't you read my message I need a reply without any feedback I'm lost and wry and wry and wry

Oh, rough stream, cool forest rough stream Bewildered well of living waters Oh rough stream, cool forest rough stream Tell me wherever are your quarters We are our shepherd's little lambs Kepp looking for heavenly lands, in vain We are not certain what our future'll bring Yet we want to know your spring If it's spring you want to find, always climb, always climb Back against the current of a stream...... . Tłumaczenie (wersja robocza sprzed lat) tekstu piosenki "Strumień" z "Tu es Petrus", słowa Z. Książek My attempt to translate the song "Strumień", original lyrics by Z. Książek

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  attractiveness? ... shall I turn to vanity instead?... diminish...  find  joy in plain matters?

A w ostatni poniedziałkowy poranek pojawiła się – ona… Po tygodniu wichur i śnieżyc, które łamały konary drzew grube jak ramię ogrodnika, rozkwitnięcie kruchej róży na malutkim krzaczku było    - cudem…. Nie była najpiękniejszą z róż, o nie: płatki miała blade, pomarszczone, tu i ówdzie piegowate. Ale przecież NIE MIAŁA CZASU się stroić! Jej decyzja o wyjściu na świat była może i pochopna. Jednak stało się. Zbierała się szybko z pączka – bo już za tydzień pierwsze mrozy zetną jej krótki żywot. Ten tydzień musi przeżyć intensywnie… ..... And last Monday morning there emerged  - Her Majesty.... The wind had been blowing for a week before, and the snow, heavy and hard as concerete, had broken many branches wide as the gardener's arm, so her appearance on a tiny bush was simply - a miracle.... She wasn't the most beautiful of roses, however; oh no: her petals were pale and crushed, and she tried to hide some freckles here and there. But SHE HAD NO TIME to trim herse...

a tree grew from a stone wall that was unbreached water no longer moves the mill a trunk from a leg face made of leaves does matter matter? will it survive? a ghost in the machine? nature's child? fools' feast?

sinistrous hand ambidextrous word righteous mind