Agnieszka Herman (Poland)

 
Agnieszka Herman (Poland)
 
Agnieszka Herman – polish poetess, journalist, graphic designer. She published five poetry books: “The Sun Exploded” (Warsaw, 1990), “Written by the light” (Warsaw, 1995) “The hardest thing is walking in the middle of the day during the fall” (Warsaw, 2015), “The crosspoint” poems collected in Bulgarian (2018) and “Background” (Warsaw, 2019). Her poems have been published in numerous anthologies and magazines in Poland, Bulgaria, India, Turkey, Japan, United Kingdom, Ukraine and USA. The member of international poetry festivals in Bulgaria, Turkey and Ukraine.
She has received many poetry awards. The last one – she is the finalist in Orpheus – Poetry Award K.I. Gałczyński 2020 for the book Tło (Background, Warsaw 2019). She won the voting of readers and participants of the awards gala [Poetry Award K.I. Gałczyński 2020]. She cooperates with large publishing houses in Poland where project book covers. She is the author of cover designs, some of them are the world bestsellers. She is a memmber of Polish Haiku Association. Her haiku are regularly published in the Japanese newspaper Kuzu.
 
Translated by Ada Stańczak
 
 
The rhythm of the earth
 
Just hug the tree
especially when the wind is blowing strong
The earth is pulsating in it
my heart wants to keep up
I feel two souls within me
there is me and god
the body has an expiration date
god is immortal
The walk
A deserted town or a film mockup.
Opened gates await the return of the hosts.
There are satiating cats in sunspots
and their narrowed eyes.
According to Epicurus
the happiness is a conversation about philosophy
with a friend in your own garden.
Or maybe happiness is a morning walk,
in which it solidifies like in an amber.
Especially when everywhere is
full of the byzantine splendor. Gold and purple.
So much death this autumn – says M.
Let the poems – like burning linden trees –
stand face to face with the dark.
 
 
 
“AFTER”
 
I am looking for a suitcase for “AFTER” on the internet.
Red one as courage that allows you to hit the road.
I will start in the restaurant Honorata with father Tomasz.
We will order a duck with beetroot and baked apple.
I had my wedding there. It’s June. The shortest night of the year.
A crowd of guests. Pheromones or perfume.
Buzzing in the head. Lots of flowers.
We leave some of them at the monument of the “Little Insurrectionist”.
Helmet too big for a boy’s head. I will not give my child to war.
I take a bath with freesias, roses, sunflowers.
They are in the bedroom. On the balcony. On my dress.
Our life smells like a florist for a long time.
Right “AFTER” we will be there. Ready.
I will have a red suitcase, the priest a cornflower wreath.
Translated by Kaja Herman
Quarantine
In a black and white photograph
you can breathe like in the old days.
Rivers flow, we used to jump into them.
In the bend. It’s deeper there.
Under a mountain covered in spruces.
Where we were basking on the rocks,
where we were building dams,
where we were pulling out troutes with our hands
where we were skipping stones,
where we were looking for glistening small fish
where we were singing and waiting.
 
I miss you my river. I miss you the bright day.
 
Translated by Kaja Herman
 
 
 
OVER AGAIN
 
Autumn is like forbidden love
In the rustling leaves there is
more hope than farewells.
I have never traveled so far
to find myself.
The hourglass can be turned
and you can see grains of sand
pour all over again.
 
Translated by Ada Stańczak
 
 
 
DARK NOVEMBER
 
Muffled steps. Soft carpet of leaves.
Birds flew away. We were created
in the garden, in the sun.
Now all is in the lingering grayness.
Somewhere there’s heaven, somewhere the Earth.
And somewhere you. Love doesn’t save.
You kiss the toes on my feet
– Fiery carmine varnish
It is the only sign of life today;
 
Translated by Ada Stańczak
 

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