Oct/Nov 2007 spotlight

Two Poems

by Grzegorz Wróblewski

Translated from the Polish by the author and Malcolm Sinclair



A young beautiful woman at a bus stop. A well-trained body,
charismatic facial expression... As I look at her, I suddenly
imagine how she will look in 30-40 years. My incessant,
sick imagination: everywhere I see (smell) decay. I recall
a genial photograph by Robert Frank: 14th Street, New York City,
In the picture 5 plump (it was fashionable then) women.
Satisfied, they smoke cigarettes. (Hot chocolate costs 10,
tea 5, and cheeseburger 25 cents.) Are some of them still
alive? The world is concrete. Robert Frank's photographs
won well-earned fame: Robert Frank is one of today's
leading visual artists.

And nowhere a single word about those five graces.



What did Clausen see the sky? Nobody ever got to know for certain.
Excitedly he ran in from the plot (where he'd been weeding the carrots),
and while he pointed at the clouds, he shouted: There, there!
Shall I pour you a drink?—I asked him. But Clausen, completely
confused repeated: There, there! He stopped reacting
to anything at all. Later on he was put in with the loonies.
(His furniture came under the hammer.) What did Clausen
see in the sky? Nobody ever got to know for certain.


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