Grzegorz Wróblewski

Translated from the Polish by the author and Malcolm Sinclair

Three Poems


For this bad day, which has just begun.

For this one shall to the kiosk after the well-known thing.

For this triumphant home-coming with the well-known

thing in the dust-coat’s inner pocket.

For those first, so pleasant buzzings from within.

For this depression caused by the following buzzings,

which are no longer so pleasant.

For this recovering anew.

For surviving however.

For this there is a little left.

For this one shall again to the kiosk after the well-known thing.

And in the end, for this that’s even without reason.

Pre-Holiday Cocktail

Should one again permit trade in ivory?

December is the happiest month of the year!

Long live Californian raisins and Italian

walnuts with condoms hidden inside!

Mads Thomsen invites us to a binge in the workshop,

which produces oak coffins. Let’s honour the memory

of our closest ones! Which bottle of wine is it now?

I have counted up to seven scented angels.

And in the end also Werner von Blomberg,

who changed the planet’s history by marrying,

unnecessarily, the sexy Fräulein Gruhn.

Police note the names of the guests.

Today I’m called Carp In Jelly – says the drunk

Mads Thomsen. From out of the heavens the first

broken glasses arrive. For a moment we forget about

our stout wives and other unpleasant maladies.

We are so tough again.

Proposal for June

In how many languages do birds communicate?

Are we the only civilisation in the universe?

Why are so many fools born every summer?

Out of these questions let’s make a lottery or another

chain of honesty, and send them to our closest friends.

After one week we’ll get the first surprising answer.

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