Medieval Literature of Poland An Anthology translated by MICHAEL J. MIKOS Anonymous Sessa ies LISTEN, DEAR BROTHERS &%r treme so Engin This anonymous poem from the Benedictine Monastery of the Holy Cross at tysa Gora (Bald Mountain) was written in the Jatter part Of the fifteenth century. It is also called laments of the Mother of God Under the Cross or The Holy Crass Lament. It is a ponverfiul ‘and dramatic expression of personal sorrow, a lament of a helpless ‘mother witnessing the agony of her son and seeking consolation from other people in touching, simple words. Listen, dear brothers, T want to complain of a enue! murder'; Hear about the sorrow ‘That befell me on Good Friday. 5 Have pity on me, you old and young, Because a painful feast day came for me: Thad only one Son And I mourn for him, Deep sorrow came over me, a miserable woman, 10 Seeing my dear son covered with blood, Dreadful is this moment and frightful this hous, When I see an infidel Jew As he beats, tortures my dear Son, My litle Son, dear and loved, 15 Share your wounds with your mother; Thave always carried you, litle Son, in my heart, And I have also served you faithfully. Speak to your mother, so that I can be consoled, Recause you are going away from me, my dear hope. 7 8 20 25 38 MEDIEVAL LITERATURE OF POLAND My dear Son, if Thad had you down here, T could have helped you somewhat: Your lite head hangs to one side; I would suppor it; Blood is flowing over you; I would wipe it off, You ay for water; I would give you drink; But may not reach your holy body. ©, angel Gabrie!, Where is this great joy of yours, Of which you promised me so much, Saying: "Virgin, you are full of grace!"? And am full of sorrow and grief ‘My flesh and all my bones have rotied away. Implore God, all you dear and loving mothers, Se you do not see such a sight with your children, As I, a miserable woman, saw today With my own, my dear, beautiful Son, ‘Who suffered such torments, though perfectly innocent 1 do not have nor will Ihave another one, Only you, my Son, stretched upon the cross Notes 1 tort le the Polish orginal meant to produce the corpse in coun 2s cence of crime. The Mother of God points to the head of her Son ‘covered with blood, in order to reveal the crime Text Nowak-Diusewski, Polskie piesni pasyjne, 125-127POLISH RENAISSANCE LITERATURE AN ANTHOLOGY MICHAEL J. MIKOS Jan Kochanowski 101. On Human Life Eternal Thought,1 existing longer than Time's span, If You are ever moved by the same thing as man, T believe in heaven You must have a true show,” Looking at various matters of this world below. 5 You barely toss something out, when we, like children, ‘Will snatch up even scraps in this turmoil and din, One will have his sleeve torn off, one will lose his cap; While still another will lose some hair in this scrap. At the very end misfortune or death sets in, 10 And one will soon drop those trinkets, though unwilling Lord, if I may, let me feel this pleasure with You, Let others fight on, while I wonder at the view. Notes 1. Eternal Thought is a philosophical description of God. 2. During the carnival festivities of Shrovetide sweets were often tossed to the crowd and many people fought for them. 160 Book I yor ee 6. On the Linden Tree Fuest, sit beneath my Jeaves and rest at ease! Guest sun will not reach you here, I promise, i truly soars, and straigl eas Byer it tthe scattered shadows under the trees. 5 Here cool breezes alvrays blow from the felt Slere nightingales and starlings sweetly keen, From my fragrant flower, industrious bees ‘Take honey which graces nobleman's feast. With my soft whisper I know by what means Te jull you with ease into sweetest dreams. ‘Though Ido not bear apples, my lord prizes me ‘The most fruitful plant among the Hesperian trees Teams elite ogg? Notes i 3 a Hes ding to Greek legends, the garden of the 2, Accomaited at the western extremity of the world re the three daughters of Night, wh perid singing and guarding a tree, upon whic) ‘The Hesperides we grew golden apples. passed their time in | 54. On Health O noble health | How good you taste, ‘Then a man truly And he asserts: Nothing is better, Because possessions, Also sweet youth, A high position, Are all good, but 10 When strength is missing, O precious stone, Loyal to you, a No one will learn, Until you fail. Sees it: quite clearly Nothing like health, Nothing is dearer; Pearls, even jewels, Gift of good looks, Vast domination With health intact; ‘The world isn't pleasing. My humble home Make your own too!POLISH BAROQUE AND ENLIGHTENMENT LITERATURE AN ANTHOLOGY MICHAEL J. MIKOS Jan Andrzej Morsztyn To the Same Lady Your eyes are not eyes, but suns that shine bright, In whose glow all reason must lose its light; Your lips are not lips, but rosy coral, Which capture every sense by their color; 5 Your breasts are not breasts, but a pure design From heaven, which our will in chains confine; Thus the eyes, breasts, lips blind, bind, and confine Reason, sense, will with glow, color, design. To a Corpse Sonnet ‘You lie struck dead, I am struck dead the same, ‘You with the death bolt, I the love arrow, You have no blood, I have no ruddy glow, ‘You have plain candles, I a hidden flame, In dreadful darkness my senses are trapped, ‘Your hands are bound, while my mind has been strapped, Deprived of freedom, in irons throughout. 5 \ ‘Your face is covered with a mourning shroud, { } - J 1g/ Budyou are silent, while my tongue whimper, J 10’ \_/ "You feel nothing, Tcan't deep pain forge, 5 You are like ice, I in hellish sunglow. Yi ame Soo” ; With time your body into dust scatters, SY And yet I cannot scatter in ash pyre, Coartncte Eternal plement of my awn fen agnacy Krasicki Preface to Fables ‘There was a youth who led a temperate life, An aged man, devoid of gall and strife, A rich man, who shared with the poor his grain, An author, much pleased when others won fame, A tax man who didn't steal, a cobbler dry, A soldier who didn't brag, @ rogue of fight shy; A public servant who didn't think of gain, A poet, too, who checked his fancy's reign. Why is it a tale? All this can occur! True, but I'l put it in the fables’ corner, 18. A Friend “Lam calling upon you, Arist," said Damon, “Come to my help in this extreme situation. Llove beautiful Irene. Her parents and she Are not yet persuaded to accept my plea.” Arist said: "You know quite well, you I most commend, How deeply I am in favor of you, dear friend. Til see them for you.” Indeed, he was no idler= He went, he met with Irene, and he married her. 3. The Lamb and the Wolves He who looks for spoils will always find a pretext. ‘Two wolves swooped down upon a lamb in the forest. They closed in to kill the lamb. It said: "By what right?" “You're tasty, weak, in the woods!” They ate it forthright. 7. The Penitent Wolf A wolf succumbed to scruples. He led a knave's life, So in order that his penance could fully thrive, He gave up meat. Eating vegetables a few days, He ran into a friend on his hunting forays. One must help one’s neighbor; for useful assistance He ate a chunk of meat--one shouldn't scorn a pittance. He came upon a lamb walking alone next day, Wished to warn if, scare it, by chance put it away. Next day, seeing a calf not walking with a cow, He killed it-such transgressions one mustn't allow. Seeing an old bull grazing with cows the next day, “Let it suffer no longer'--he ate it right away. And so fully deprived of the world’s sustenance, Skinny while sinful, he gained weight doing penance.POLISH BAROQUE AND ENLIGHTENMENT LITERATURE AN ANTHOLOGY MICHAEL J. MIKOS Jan Andrzej Morsztyn To the Same Lady ‘Your eyes are not eyes, but suns that shine bright, In whose glow all reason must lose its light; ‘Your lips are not lips, but rosy coral, - Which capture every sense by their color; 5 Your breasts are not breasts, but a pure design From heaven, which our will in chains confine; Thus the eyes, breasts, lips blind, bind, and confine Reason, sense, will with glow, color, design. To a Corpse Sonnet ‘You lie struck dead, I am struck dead the same, ‘You with the death bolt, I the love arrow, i] You have no blood, I have no ruddy glow, ‘You have plain candles, I a hidden flame, In dreadful darkness my senses are trapped, ‘Your hands are bound, while my mind has been 5 strapped, Deprived uf freedom, in irons throughout. 5 \ ‘Your face is covered with a mourning shroud, { / Bul you are silent, while my tongue whimpers, 10’ \_/ "You feel nothing, I can't deep pain forgo, 10 Welk arch son” 2 Conkes $ . You are like ice, I in hellish sunglow. ; With time your body into dust scatters, And yet I cannot scatter in ash pyre, Eternal element nf my awn fies agnacy Krasicki Preface to Fables ‘There was a youth who led a temperate lifo, An aged man, devoid of gall and strife, Arich man, who shared with the poor his grain, An author, much pleased when others won fame, A tax man’ who didn't steal, a cobbler dry, A soldier who didn't brag, a rogue of fight shy; A public servant who didn't think of gain, A poet, too, who checked his fancy's reign. Why is it a tale? All this can occur! ‘True, but I'l put it in the fables’ corner, 18. A Friend "Tam calling upon you, Arist," said Damon, “Come to my help in this extreme situation. Llove beautiful Irene. Her parents and she Are not yet persuaded to accept my plea.” Arist said: "You know quite well, you I most commend, How deeply I am in favor of you, dear friend. Til see them for you.” Indeed, he was no idler= He went, he met with Irene, and he married her. 93. The Lamb and the Wolves He who looks for spoils will always find a pretext_. ‘Two wolves swooped down upon a lamb in the forest. They closed in to kill the lamb. It said: "By what right?" "You're tasty, weak, in the woods!" They ate it forthright, 7. The Penitent Wolf A wolf succumbed to scruples. He led a knave's life, So in order that his penance could fully thrive, He gave up meat. Eating vegetables a few days, He ran into a friend on bis hunting forays. One must help one’s neighbor; for useful assistance He ate a chunk of meat--one shouldn't scorn a pittance. He came upon a lamb walking alone next day, Wished to warn if, scare it, by chance put it away. Next day, seeing a calf not walking with a cow, He killed it-such transgressions one mustn't allow. Seeing an old bull grazing with cows the next day, “Let it suffer no longer’--he ate it right away. And so fully deprived of the world’s sustenance, Skinny while sinful, he gained weight doing penance.190 Paras eomakate Song What do You want from us, Lord, for Your lavish gifts? ‘What for the benefactions, which have no limits? The Church will not contain You, You are everywhere: On the earth, in the depths, the sea, the open air. 5 You do not want gold, I know, as it is all Yours, ‘Whatever in this world man names as his resource With our grateful hearts we sing your glory, O Lord, For no offering more proper can we afford, You are the Lord of the whole world, You built the sky, °°) 10 And embroidered it splendidly with gold stars high. Of the earth untraversed, You lay the foundation, ‘And covered its bareness with rich vegetation. By Your own command the sea stands within its shores "And is fearful to leap over its assigned course. 15 Inexhaustible waters enrich the rivers, Bright day and shadowy night keep their hours diverse. By Your will Spring brings flowers, in abundance born, os By Your will Summer wears wreaths made from ears ers of com. 2 Autumn gives out wine and apples of various kinds, 20 Idle Winter rises, when ready meal she finds. By Your grace the dew descends on frail plants at night, ‘And the rain brings new life to withered grains aright. From Your hands all animals look for sustenance, ‘And You nourish them all in Your munificence. 25 Be praised forever, everlasting Creator! Your grace and Your goodness will not cease evermore. Shield us, as long as You deign, on this earth so low, But in the shade of Your wings let us always go! = SLOWS He fet Naty gt Unvene Noles dheectly © Geet ae FB onted ia Gah wholes « qeoeiysh vormenusy quem Hy Jan Kochanowski coe ee PD pagent N Lament X77 tere’? as My gracious Ursula, where are you gone?— “28S "ua" ‘Along which way, to which land are you borne? Are you raised high above all the heavens : ‘And numbered there among little angels? 5 Are you in Paradise? Or carried to ‘The Blessed Isles?! Does Charon? ferry you Across lakes of sorrow and make you drink ‘Waters of oblivion so you know nothing Of my tears? Have you shed maid's form and dreams "And taken the nightingale's shape and wings? Or purged in Purgatory, if a minute Bodily stain has yet remained on you?+ Did you go after death to where you were, “Bre you were born to bring me deep despair? 15 Where: ii 5 pity my dole, ‘And if you are not able as your former whole,® Console me, as you can, and make an appearance "As a dream, a shade, or an illusory substance. Notes 10 1, Islands of the Blest, in Greek mythology, in the stream Oceanus, far away in the west, were extremely fertile islands, where the blessed among the dead lived again in bliss. 2. Charon, in Greek mythology, was the boatman who conveyed the dead across the Styx to Hades. Lethe Coblivion’), was in Latin poets a river or a spring in Hades. Its water was drunk by souls about to be reincarnated, so that they forgot their previous existence. Kochanowski’s source was Virgil's Aeneid, 6, 297-305 and 714-716 (Virgil's Works. ‘Translated by J. W. Mackail, New York: The Modern Library, 1950). 3." This is a reference to the doctrine of transmigration of souls, described in mythology and poetry, e.g., by Ovid in Metamorphoses. 4, These words refer most likely to the Christian Purgatory. 5. This expression of doubt in the eternal life is an echo of a formula used in Roman funeral poetry, e.g., in Ovid's ‘Amores, III, 9, 59: "And yet, if aught. survives but shade-and name" (Tr. by AD Melville, Oxford: Oxford University Press, 90). 6. ‘A former whole'-with body and soul. Kochanowski is hoping that his daughter might come as a dream apparition, a shade or a bodyless vision. o é spb am we Sen unvp) w> rd ead roe Fi Lyrowoured "ys ¥POLISH ROMANTIC LITERATURE AN ANTHOLOGY MICHAEL J. MIKOS Adam Mickiewicz Master Thaddeus® (Selections Book 1 The Manor Farm O.Lithuania! My homeland! You are like health; (rn he will find out how cherished is your wealth, Who has lost you. Today, your beauty in full view 1 see and desctibe, for Iam yearning for you > Holy Virgin, you who shield Bright Cogstochowa'? Master Thaddeus (1834) is a nosalgie history ofthe te of the Polish and Lithuanian Moscoar na ie kes place in 1811 and 1812, on the eve of Nepales march on, Moscow, and chronicles a feud between two families In woh books of this epic Foca anton nck eserbes in loving detail a gallery of characters ones of {ocal customs, and the beauty of his native region 2? The Pauline Monastery at Jasna Géca (ine Bright Mountain) in Czestochowa is the Shrine of the Black Madonna, much venerated by the Poles Ans shine above the Pointed Gate!" You watch over Castled Nowogrddek with faithful folk inate As You miraculously healed me as child, {When my crying mother put me under Your car, 10 Topened my deathlike eyes and at once from there Could walk up to the threshold of Your temple's door 0 ive thanks for my restored life to the Savion) So by amiracle You will take us back home But before that allow my longing soul to recm 15 To those wooded hillocks, o those verdant meadows, Which by the blue Niemen® are stretching in wide rows; ParanGke vevied grain elds cach ai tinged with dye, Painted golden with wheat, tinted silver with ryer Wynen® amber mustard grows, buckwheat as whe as snow, 2 Where clover flower blushes witha maiden's slog, And all girded with a green balk, like a ribbos Along which quiet peartres sit hither and yon Amid such fields, by a brook, many yeartago, On the top ofa smal hill in bitch tee prove, %5 A Fate's manor stood, bull of wood, bie of stone; 20 chad spacious barn, and three haystacks teciac, 3 Turning up eary large tacts ofthe fallowrcery PaeatGt soi. surely under the mancr's ownership, Tied as if they were neat garden beds, one could see ‘Tati this house lived order and prosperity The gate was wide open, it told each trevele, 40 That twas neighborly and bid him teone M1 shed pure sears, countless tears...] Ished pure tears, countless tears, Over my childhood, idyli,” angelic, Over my youth, exalted, disordered, Pyer my manhood years, downfall years; 5 Ished pure tears, countless tears The original word ‘sietckie* refers to the village (‘sioto’) as a locale for idvtlic ifs10 15 20 7 Arachne, a woman of Lydia, challenged Athena to a contest in weaving. Wien ‘Athena tore Arachne's web to pieces, she hanged herself, but Athena (un Juliusz Slowacki Beniowskt Song ¥ elections) {The Supple Tongue} “The supple tongue, for me that’s just the thing, ‘should say what the head ean conceive ia full: ‘And at times be clear and switt, ike lightning, ‘AC times like a song of the steppes sorrowful, ‘At times as a nymph's complaint, soft of feeling, ’At times like the speech of angels beautiful Atshould fly above all on the winged spirit, ‘The stanza should be its measure—not its bit. ‘Lo draw all from it, to blur it with yearning, Then flash from it with lightning that is noiseless, “Then show it in the rays of gold coloring, “Then puffed with our ancient forebears’ haughtiness, ‘With Arachne's” skill make of it a weaving, Then mould it of mud like a swallow's nest ‘Under the eaves, on the wood firmly hung, Singing within itself to the rising sun... ‘And if that old Jan of Black Forest” fame Could rise from his grave, he would grasp its tenor, ‘And think he just heard some heavenly strain, Clad in old royal rhyme, wafting in whisper, ‘To his grave, from above the linden trees’ lane, Tn the speech he knew centuries earlier ‘Then, quietly a-dying, he would muse on ‘That in grave he didn't forget the Polish tongue. a spider. 28 Jan Kochanowski (1530-1584), estate of Czarnolas (Black Forest poetry. 29 Kochanowski’s poem On the Lin a great Renaissance poet, settied in his hereditary 1). This name became the symbol of early Polish den Tree is one of the most popular Polish 10 15 20 25 Cyprian Nowwid Nerves ‘Twas where they die of hunger yesterday — looked inside the rooms, each like a coffit My foot suddenly slipped on the stalrway, Of what floor it was hard to determine! Ttmust have been a miracle—it had been, “That I caught hold of a rotten pole (With a nail sticking in, (Mein the arms of the eross!..) ~Tescaped whole! But I came out—with no more than—halfa heart; Ot gaiety?..—barely a trace! T passed by the crowd like a cattle mart, ‘For me the world turned bas: sPoday 1 must call on the Baroness, Who receives with great splendor, Gua sofa covered with satin softness— What wll tell ber? _acThe mirror will shatter, Candelabras wilf frown on realism, ‘And the palated parrots along, ‘The whole length of the plafond call from beak to beak: “Si So I will seat myself, hat in hand firmly — Then I will put it on ‘And will go home, a silent Pharisee Alter the reception.CZESLAW MILOSZ YOU WHO HAVE WRONGED* (Ktéry skrzywdzites) You, who have wronged a simple man, Bursting into laughter at his suffering, Keeping around a crew of clowns To confound good and evil, Even if all bowed down before you Ascribing to you virtue and wisdom, Forging gold medals in your honor, a g ph Content to live through one more day, Do not feel safe. The poet remembers, ~" You may kill him—a new one will be born. Deeds and talks will be recorded, A winter dawn would be better for you, ‘And a rope and branch bent under the burden. Translated by Michael J. Mikos “This poem, written in Washington, D.C., in 1950, appeared ina volume Swiatlo dsienne (Daylight), the first colecton of Milos’ poetry published in exile ia 1953, Lines taken from this poem were inseribed on a monument unviled in Gduish in Desem ber 1980 to commemorate the anniversary of the workers” massacre of 1970, 3WISLAWA SZTMBORSEA Every Case Ir could have happened. Te mast have happened. ‘it happened earlier. Later. Closer by. Further sway. Ik happened not to yoo. You survived because you were the first. You survived becanse you were the lst. ~ Because you were alone. Because you were with others. Becanse to the left. Because to the right. Because it rained. Becanse there was shade, ‘Because the day was sunny Fortunately a forest was there. Fortunately no trees were there, Fortunately 2 rai, a hook, a bar, 2 brake, an embrasure, a carve, a millimeter, 2 second. Fortunately a razor was floating om water. ‘Asa consequence, because, and yet, in spite. ‘What it would have been if a hand, alegy within an ace of, by a bar's breadth taved from a combination of circumstancts, So you are here? Straight from an. abrogated moment? "The net had jus one meth and you went through that mesh? Tam all surprise and all silence. Listen, hhow quickly your heart beats to me,i) P The Envoy of Mr. Cogito ZBIGNIEW HERBERT Ga where chose others wentto the dark boundary for the golden fleece of nothingness our last prize 0 upright among those who are om theit knees among those with their backs turned and those toppled in the dust : you were saved not in order to live ‘you have litle timelyou mus give testimony ‘be courageous when the mind deceives yous i courageous in the final account only this is important and let your helpless Anger be like the sea whenever you hear the voice of the insulted and beaten let your sister Scorn not leave for the informers Erecutioners Poartd-they will wi they will goto your funeral and with telief will _throw a lump of earth the woodberer will write your smoothed-over biography and do not forgive truly itis noe in your power to forgive in the name of those betrayed at dawn beware however of unnecesary pride keep looking at your elown's fice in the mirror | M *speat Las called—weren't there bert ones than I //7* beware of dryness of ear lore the morning spring the bid wih an unknown she winter ak ight on a wall splendor ofthe sky | a they don’t need your warm breath they are there to ay: no one will console you be vigilant—when the light on the mountains gives the sign—arise and go as long as blood turns in the breast your dark star repeat old incantations of humanity fables and legends because this is how you will arin the good you will not arain type grat word epeat them sbborly like those crossing the desert who perished in the sand and they will reward you with what they have at band with the whip of langhter with murder on a garbage heap go because only in this way will you be admitted to aN the company of cold skulls “ to the company of your ancestors: Gilgamei Hector { Roland . the defenders of the kingdom without limit and the city of ashes ( Be BichéullGo )10 Jan Twardowski Kochanowski's Translation of Psalms Give me back Lord from bygone years A sip of bitter tea from 2 flask A letter of my dead father ‘A sweater from sister mother's heart And Kochanowski's translation of Psalms Burnt in Uprising with Wileza Street? '~ are And all the things I wish to others-- Which I alas will not receive Holy confession of bygone storms When Savior's hand would weigh the tears ‘And then at least another day Out on the ice in childhood years That snow which fell upon my eyes ‘And what I whispered out of reason ‘And then put down the heaviest missal Next to a cup upon my coffin Translated by Michael J. Mikos