Cyprian Kamil NorwidMy Little Song (II)tłum. Jarek Zawadzki
1For the country dear where but a crumb of bread
Up from the ground with reverence we heave,
Adoring thus the Boon by Heaven spread…
O Lord I grieve…
5
And for the land where storks nests to destroy
As a serious misdeed we do perceive,
For they provide us all with mirth and joy…
O Lord I grieve…
And for the country where each greeting nod
10Is dear to Him in whom we do believe,
For meeting friends we say: «Praise be to God»…
O Lord I grieve…
But there is also something else I miss,
That's something different, equally naive;
15Though I have no idea where that is…
O Lord I grieve…
And for the griefless time of thoughtlessness,
For those who never fancy to deceive,
And take each no for no and yes for yes…
20O Lord I grieve…
And now who cares for me and for my woe
That even time so long may not relieve?
Not for my friendship, but it must be so…