I roast in the sun, old wretch…
I lie, and yawn, I stretch.
Old am I, but full of pep:
When I take a slug from the cup
I sing.
My ancient bones bask in the sun's glow,
And my curly, wise, grey head.
In that wise head, like woods in spring
Hums and hums a wiser wine.
Eternal thoughts flow and flow,
Like time.
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From guest Maciej (contact)
One of the best polish poet, regret that you can't read this in orginal language, it's mastery of the word. Wiosna is my favourite, regards from Poland! -
is at the same time peaceful and straining to read. definite sense of the physical verses the mental action here. the body is old yet fairly comfortable but tired. the mind is given an unlimited amount of freedom though.
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