Rose

Rose

Was I strewing red poppies
Over a dark, barren field?
I can remember dreaming
But I’ve forgotten the dream.

Were these your lips I then kissed?
Were these my hands you did hold?
In my garden – only mist
At my gates – a crescent gold.

Every day my yearning grows;
I spend every night afloat.
When do you blossom, my rose?
‘I never blossom, my lord’.

‘I never blossom, my lord’
Speak, is it your voice, my rose?
I try to catch every word...
Every day my yearning grows.

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For me, this is the most beautiful poem ever. It sounds so great in Polish, so I had a really hard time trying to translate it :( Thinking at the same time about rhymes, meter, content and emotional message was really difficult. To be honest, I don't like my translation :p It just doesn't have the charm of Leśmian's poetry. And it can't. When I started, I decided I got to stick to what is most important, and that is, for me, the imagery of this poem. It's dark and red, it's somewhere between a night dream and vision, it's full of loneliness and emptiness. And if, reading both versions, you see the same images in your mind, I'm really satisfied.

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Bolesław Leśmian - Róża

Czym purpurowe maki
Na ciemną rzucał drogę?
Sen miałem, ale - jaki? -
Przypomnieć już nie mogę.

Twojeż to były usta?
Mojeż to były dłonie?
Głąb sadu mego - pusta,
We wrotach - księżyc płonie.

Dni się za dniami dłużą,
Noce - w jeziorach witam...
Kiedy ty kwitniesz, różo?
" Ja nigdy nie zakwitam... "

" Ja nigdy nie zakwitam... "
Twójże to głos, o różo?
Słowo po słowie chwytam,
Dni się za dniami dłużą...

He wishes for the Cloths of Heaven

Gdybym miał szatę niebios

Gdybym miał niebios wyszywaną szatę,
Przeplataną złotym i srebrnym światłem,
Niebieską, przydymioną i ciemną szatę
Ze światła dnia, zmierzchu i nocy,
Rozpostarłbym ją pod Twymi stopami;
Lecz, będąc biednym, mam tylko swe marzenia;
Rozpostarłem je u Twoich stóp;
Stąpaj miękko, bo stąpasz po moich marzeniach.

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I simply fell in love with this poem. I guess you can't really see it unless you can imagine the dim sky at dusk, which grows darker and darker with every minute, and then you see the first star, so little and pale. And just before that, you can almost see the "blueness" of everything around you! For me it's a really sacred experience... As for the last two sentences, they always bring to my mind the scene in the church from the 'Equilibrium', a movie which really helps to understand the poem. There's this enigmatic word "softly" in the last line; can it stand for "carelessly" or "carefully"? Being influenced by the movie, I would say: both. "I have spread my dreams under your feet" means: "I have put my trust and hope in you, along with all my dreams and my effort to fulfill them; try not to lose what I have achieved, but take care of my dreams, when I will be no longer able to dream. Hovewer, now it's your responsibility; If you want to destroy all I was trying to build, it's your choice."

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He wishes for the Cloths of Heaven

by W.B. Yeats

Had I the heavens' embroidered cloths,
Enwrought with golden and silver light,
The blue and the dim and the dark cloths
Of night and light and the half-light,
I would spread the cloths under your feet:
But I, being poor, have only my dreams;
I have spread my dreams under your feet;
Tread softly because you tread upon my dreams.


You can find original Yeats' poetry as well as Polish translations
at http://www.yeats.art.pl/