>>1874961Well, it's not exactly a poem. It's an invocation to an epic novel "Pan Tadeusz" by Adam Mickiewicz, probably the greatest Polish writer. Polish kids are learning that part in school, so I still remembered it
" O Lithuania, my country , thou
Art like good health ; I never knew till now
How precious, till I lost thee. Now I see
Thy beauty whole, because I yearn for thee.
O Holy Maid, who Czestochowà'a shrine
Dost guard and on the Pointed Gateway shine
And watchest Nowogrodek's pinnacle !
As Thou didst heal me by a miracle
(For when my weeping mother sought Thy power,
I raised my dying eyes, and in that hour
My strength returned, and to Thy shrine I trod
For life restored to offer thanks to God),
So by a miracle Thou'll bring us home.
Meanwhile, bear off my yearning soul to roam
Those little wooded hills, those fields beside
The azure Niemen, spreading green and wide,
The vari-painted cornfields like a quilt,
The silver of the rye, the wheatfields' gilt ;
Where amber trefoil, buck-wheat white as snow,
And clover with her maiden blushes grow,
And all is girdled with a grassy band
Of green, whereon the silent pear trees stand.
Such were the fields where once beside a rill
Among the birch trees on a little hill
There stood a manor house, wood-built on stone ;
From far away the walls with whitewash shone,
The whiter as relieved by the dark green
Of poplars, that the automn winds would screen.
( wystarczy ??? -
A.Mickiewicz - "Pan Tadeusz or the last foray in Lithuania"
tlumacz - Kenneth Mackenzie
wydawca - J.M.Dent & Sons Ltd. - Londyn )
