Poetry from Marian Dziwisz

Marian Dziwisz

JARODINE

 “When summer fills the time

with a floral parlando […]

rowans ask for strong chords

for maidens and birds hungry for red [1].  

It sometimes happens that a rowan tree falls into a poem,

like Pilate in a creed or a hen in a pest

– in our neighbour’s garden 

as if it were unworthy of stanzas full of

 – spiky

More fortunate is the dewy willow,

a linden tree, which will spice you up with its honeyed fragrance

Or even a four-leaved clover.

Mostly admired are the rowan beads,

an obvious proof of a girl’s vanity,

because why do you need these beads, which in a moment

– to the rubbish heap in a moment!

when she takes nothing from you,

 – she boasts of her beauty

and gives us benefits of her own.

In the spring she washes the branches with flowers,

attracting awakened bees,

who gather nectar and carry it to their hives.

Then the long green berries,

sunny and sun-kissed.

When they ripen, they delight everyone.

With the first frost, the cooled fruit

fill the pantry with a variety of preserves

 – The rowan berries are a real head-turner.

When other trees, in the forest and in the garden, 

are snoozing peacefully

and the grasses are covered in a blanket of snow,

 she feeds the birds hungry for red:

mistletoes, gilts, and whooping blackbirds

grateful to the heavens and the earth,

who made her grow beautiful.

So let the “covetous reds” have their fun,

not to steal its fruit from the common rascals,

to decorate a girl’s neck.

Let them, like King Charles to his Caroline,

buy her coral-colored beads,

or weave a garland of red clover.

Cracow 28.08.2020

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