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    Польский (Polska)
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Bramy raju

Ворота рая

Nie na siedem diamentowych pieczęci
Wieczne wejście do raju zamknięte.
Pokusami ani blaskiem nie nęci
I lud o nim zapomniał ze szczętem.

To drzwi w murze, już od lat opuszczonym,
Mech, kamienie i nic więcej wokół.
Przy nich żebrak, niby gość nieproszony,
Tylko kluczy pęk u jego boku.

Orszak zbrojnych za orszakiem przemyka,
Brzęczy srebro, surma głośno woła,
I nie spojrzy nikt na klucznika,
Na świętego Piotra Apostoła.

Marzą: "Tam, przy Grobie Bożego Syna,
Bramy raju otworzą się dla nas,
U Taboru stóp wybije godzina
Z dawien dawna nam przyobiecana.

Tak szkaradna wlecze się karawana,
Pojękują rozgłośne rogi,
A apostoł Piotr w podartych łachmanach
Niby żebrak blady i ubogi.

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"What d' you see in my eyes, slightly sparkling, / In my look, hazed with opaque mist?" / "There I saw the sea's deepest darkness / With a big sunken beautiful ship. / / That fine ship... More glorious and braver / None had seen over deep of the sea. / Its high masts under windbreath ...

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The Gates of Paradise

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