1. |
Canto
05:06
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Canto
The cunt is a spiderweb
a funnel of silk
the heart of all flowers;
the cunt is a door
going who knows where
or a wall
you have to knock down.
There are happy cunts
cunts that are totally crazy
cunts that are wide or tight
worthless cunts
chatterboxes that stutter,
and those that yawn
and don't say a word
even if you kill them.
The cunt is a mountain
white with sugar,
a forest entered by wolves,
it's a carriage that pulls the horses;
the cunt is an empty whale
filled with black air and fireflies;
it's the prick's pocket,
its nightcap,
an oven that burns everything.
The cunt when it's time
is the face of God,
his mouth.
Everything in the world comes out from the cunt
the trees, the clouds, the sea
and men come out one at a time
from every race. […]
original text by Tonino Guerra,
translated from the Romagnole Italian by Adria Bernardi;
polish translation for the edition SW ANAGRAM & NOWE HORYZONTY (Warsaw 2008) by Katarzyna Pawłowska-Salińska.
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2. |
Pocałunek
05:02
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Kiss
I've kissed your lips, I've kissed them in the dark, in the black velvet love of night. I've kissed your lips and I felt how red they were... In your white, hot embrace I closed my eyes. Closed eyes can see infinity, an endless, endless expanse... Those flashes become a melody in which purple and black danced to its rhythm, as two ethereal silk shawls, waning, they danced together in a boundless sight of closed eyes.
And then - a frosty night, a pale blue still winter night. I was walking slightly intoxicated as if consumed by the azure of an aromatic liquor, with a diamonds drop of frosty, milky moonlight, that rippled forth in a slim glass, scintillating and shimmering in an effervescent fantasy... Walking in this state of intoxication, squinting my eyes, I could once again see that distant disappearing dance... I was so unearthly happy, that I felt disembodied and I moved like a ray of light... The feeling was so real, that when I slipped, I thought I tripped over the shadow of a branch hanging upon the fence of a garden.
And now I will fall asleep with a joyful smile upon my tired lips, that softly whispers your sweet name.
original text by Julian Tuwim
english translation by Graham Flett and Grzegorz Marciniak
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3. |
Tam
04:49
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Over there
I would just drop everything right now
and, in the autumn, settle down in Kutno, Sieradz,
Rawa or Łęczyca,
in a little bungalow on a quiet street!
It would be warm, a little tight but cosy,
with lots of sleeping and lots of drinking.
Roosters would crow in the morning
while blissful neighbours grow fatter and dumber.
I would go to a little bar, sit in the corner
all the while weeping softly about the life I left behind.
Then, over a glass of wine I would talk to you:
"What do you think, my love? Darling?
Missing those parties? That hubbub? Missing the capitol?
Surely you must feel bored here in Kutno!"
You would say nothing, nothing at all my love,
listening only to the wind whistling round the chimney cap.
Dwelling repeatedly in fear and in longing:
"What on Earth is he looking for, here, in Kutno?!"
original text by Julian Tuwim
english translation by Graham Flett and Grzegorz Marciniak
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4. |
Alkohol
04:50
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Alcohol
Oh! All those banal café waltzes
are turning into tragic hymns!
My drunken - dancing thoughts
are braiding you into pathetic dirges.
Oh! How those dreadful dirges howl!
How they tug you and braid you into torment!
My eyes are like knifes
slicing through this steaming café.
I clench my cramping fist
as I choke a spasm of longing in my throat,
while these inane café waltzes
stretch my soul over a cross.
Then, drifting into oblivion next to my beloved one,
who beckons me back from the torment of those waltzes.
Finally, after countless rounds,
a dark slumber, a dark squall takes us down.
original text by Julian Tuwim
english translation by Graham Flett and Grzegorz Marciniak
credits
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5. |
Gdybym
04:15
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If I...
If I was the reddest of fresh, red rose bushes
(And they know how to be fresh! red!),
Just squint your eyes at me the way you do
And I will burn upon that request.
Even if I were to become gray, dead ash;
A helpless clump of earth at the bottom of a grave,
Just squint your eyes again, the way you do,
And roses will spring forth
from the ash.
original text by Julian Tuwim
english translation by Graham Flett and Grzegorz Marciniak
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6. |
Confession
04:40
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Confession
I didn't want to hurt her
I didn't want to make her cry
I didn't want to disappoint her
I didn't want to be unkind
I didn't want to be rude
Krysiu...
I didn't mean to harm her
I didn't mean to make her weep
I didn't mean to disrespect her
I didn't mean to be mean
I didn't mean to be rude
Krysiu...
original text by Grzegorz Marciniak
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7. |
Cień
03:23
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The shadow
I was scraping my boots off,
Scraping them with devotion and envy
Until my foot became worn,
And that caused me pain.
I butted out my cigarette;
the flame of fear brashly blew,
dry heat like a decisive defeat
hooted inside me.
A man with his vest torn off
fell asleep unwittingly,
Destroyed from the past couple of days
spent breaking his shoulders and back.
And now you sweat, sweat,
with a numb-witted head;
amazed at how fast and straight
you move along that new smooth road.
I was scraping my boots with delight;
eagerly, prophetically.
When suddenly, a naked plot
confronted my eyes:
Awry rains in a box,
Hazy posts folded in half;
And that window, that window
Disintegrating.
original text by Grzegorz Marciniak
translated to english by Graham Flett and Grzegorz Marciniak
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8. |
Nietoperze
03:33
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Bats
As the night sighs into a deeper night,
above roofs and towers
black bats fly
into an impenetrable fog.
Against all ills,
shrouded in darkness, in someone's attic,
they constantly conjure their sinful spells.
Like bats, we too keep secrets by night.
Like bats, we too listen to the din of the city.
Avoiding people's entrapments,
they glide upon a membrane of silent wings,
into the umbra of the moon.
Vanishing into the still of the night,
neither as birds nor as mice,
where they can no longer be heard
and no longer be seen.
In a weird atmosphere of the night,
where the moon guards lust,
bat-people mingle around,
drinking sweet sin.
original text by Jan Brzechwa
english translation by Graham Flett and Grzegorz Marciniak
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9. |
Dalej
04:06
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10. |
Noc
05:18
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