Maanam - Krakowski spleen Лирицс транслатион то енглисх

A Cracovian Depression

The clouds hang above the city, it’s dark and I’m unable to get up.
I cover myself even more with a quilt, I disappear, I huddle.
The air is sticky and dense, the moisture settles on the faces,
a sad bird sits on the tree idly stroking its feathers.
 
The mornings becomes a noon, the hours pass limply,
sometimes a fly caught in the trap of web buzzes
and the sun high, high in the sky shines into the pilots’ eyes,
tirelessly warming the cold blue spaces.
 
I’m waiting for the wind, which will chase away
the blanket of dark clouds.
Then, at once, I will stand
face to face with the sun.
 
The streets shrouded in fog drown in eyeless puddles,
I’m strained and I look out of the window longing for a storm
and the sun high, high in the sky shines into the pilots’ eyes,
tirelessly warming the cold blue spaces.
 
I’m waiting for the wind, which will chase away
the blanket of dark clouds.
Then, at once, I will stand
face to face with the sun.
 
Copyright®: Andrzej Pałka.

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