• Язык:
    Польский (Polska)



Otulona popiołową szatą,
Czuła, blada, w oczach tkliwy blask.
Wcześniej ukazywał cię nie taką
Skowyt fanfar i bitewny wrzask.

Wyglądałaś na złocisto-pijaną,
Obnażając roziskrzoną pierś.
Otulona mglisto-krwawą pianą
Pod niebiosa wszystkich chciałaś wznieść.

Jak strzegącej boskich praw Astrei
Przenikliwy był twój dziwny wzrok,
Szybciej mknęła krew siecią arterii,
Mocy nabierały mięśnie rąk.

Choć ty niegdyś całkiem inna byłaś,
Echem marzeń rozpoznaję cię.
Ty do raju pieśnią mnie wabiłaś,
Wiem, że kiedyś tam spotkamy się.

Другие переводы:

  • Английский
    Руперт Мортон
  • St. Sol
  • Венгерский
    Иштван Бака

А вот еще:

Remember the palace of giants…

Remember the palace of giants, / The pool, full of silvery fish, / Alleys of planes, the highest, / And keeps made of huge stone bricks; / / As my golden horse at the towers / Was prancing, so proud and strong, / And gems decorated his harness / In patterns of delicate work. / / ...

The ship

"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 ...

A fragment of «Tale of Kings»

Once a dark horseman oh a black horse came / He was clad in a black velvet cloak, full of pride. / And his look was so dreadful, as a town aflame, / And so glaring as a flash in the night. / / Curly hair upon shoulders like serpents did twist, / And his voice was a song of the earth and...


Today, I can see that your glance is especially sad, / And hands are especially thin and the hair if up fluff. / Hey, listen, as far as in Africa, down at lake Chad / Is walking a graceful Giraffe. / / He's owing that elegance, slender and languor he is, / Such beautiful patterns are sh...

The Gates of Paradise

There are no seven diamond seals to close / the eternal gates of God's great paradise / it has no tempting charms, no beckoning glow / and to the people remains unrecognized. / / a doorway in a wall long since forsaken / a mass of stones and moss and nothing more. / nearby, a beggar, ...

A portrait of a man

His eyes are lightless underground lakes, / Abandoned castles of the ancient kings. / Marked with the sign of the eternal shame / Of that, the Other One, he never speaks. / The deepest wound, his mouth, dark and purple, / Made with a blade borne of the deadly poison; / And it is sad and ...