Old Polish Shepherd’s Song
O Vistula, deep blue river beside forest
beside forest
And I have a bunch of pipes at my belt
At my belt
I will pick a little pipe, we’ll play
We’ll play
My sheep will hear me, it’s time to go
It’s time to go.
At all threshholds of human existence there is a place for ethos and pathos — places of hidden beauty. WM
#136 July-August 2013
Two texts came to my memory, far distant from each other in time and demography, still united by their magical beauty. First I quote “Testament” by oustanding Polish poet Konstanty Idelfons Galczynski:
“When my little heart one day cracks
Remember me sometimes nicely
That there was such a guy from the Moon
My pen to the Vistula
My ashes to the four winds
My heart to the postal box” (for communication)
The second one is an inscription from a Viking’s gravestone in a style strangely “cool” and modern:
“He is … Read More
