the world turned bold
on a surprising note;
the grey turned green
like a wishful dream,
the cup of morning tea
held on to its heat,
winter was now asleep,
there bloomed my spring!
on a surprising note;
the grey turned green
like a wishful dream,
the cup of morning tea
held on to its heat,
winter was now asleep,
there bloomed my spring!
the ink did not blot:
like witch’s blood it flowed
until it touched the edge
of my notebook’s page.
I tried to restrict it,
the notebook:
did I fold it.
alas!
motivated like a soldier it moved,
no sword dared to halt the pen’s truth!
where were we?
between winter and spring, yes,
when the world grew daunting:
the cuckoos grew tired of singing,
and the crows of cawing,
big vessels were sinking…
I have waited since then
to bleed some ink on my page,
to cure some rust on my sword,
to trap some love in my summer breath!
Dear Dr. Goswami:
ReplyDeleteI’d love for you to consider translating this verse yourself. If you're not up for it, I’d greatly appreciate it if you could connect me with publishers who specialize in nursery rhyme poetry.
This particular verse has been a beloved classic in Poland for at least 70 years, consistently reprinted by around 20 different publishers over that time. Given India’s much larger market, there’s a great opportunity here—even if the verse isn’t as well-known in India yet, it could still achieve significant success.
The translation only requires 400 words, capturing the charm of poetic onomatopoeia and rhyme. Whichever option you choose, I’m eager to provide all the details about the text and its international translations.
To what language would you like to translate?
Grzegorz Bobrowski
https://www.linkedin.com/in/gregbobrowski/