A box with paints from childhood's time:
The colors of town are earth and grime.
An old worker at a dark doorway squats,
The spuds in his bowl are powdery dry.
It's a face of yellowish and gray spots
In the midst of hunger, cold, dirt and slime.
Notes
translated by Frank Fox
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I was wondering if this poem reflected the aftermaths of WWI or WWII...or if it was just a social commentary about the living conditions in Poland. Found a site that has a nice, brief description of Tuwin from a relative at http://www.eighthsquare.com/tuwim.html.
I am amazed at how descriptive "Polish Flowers" is within the 6 lines. Very moving poem.
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