Kazimierz Burnat (Poland)

 
Kazimierz Burnat (Poland)
 
Kazimierz Burnat – born in Szczepanowice on the Dunajec River. A graduate of the University of Wrocław and the University of Economics in Wrocław.
Polish Poet, translator, essayist, publisher, journalist, organizer of cultural activities… Author of 21 books of poetry. He translated 7 books from Czech and Ukrainian. He wrote the prologue for 80 books. Co-author of 300 anthologies and monographs published in Poland and abroad. Translated into 43 foreign languages. Instructor of literary workshops. Juror of literary contests.
Organizer of the International Poetry Festival „Poets Without Borders” in Polanica Zdrój. The laureate of a dozen or so literary awards. Honored with many medals.
Member of the Bureau of the Polish Writers’ Association and Chairman of the Evaluation Committee, the chairman of the Society in Lower Silesia. Member of the Union of Journalists of Poland.
 
 
Fathoming
 
I am lacking a few moments
to own
distance in reverie
over the embers burnt out
 
I close my eyes
 
and sense the fleeting whisper of tomorrow
the moon gives in
to soft light of the Morning
 
with warm pulse
I am inscribing myself within its freshness
to add new meaning to intimacy
 
I nestle into the trunk
my own piece of sky
 
 
 
Internal tear
 
Their love
plunges growt
of unreal expectations
intensyfying thirst
 
with the stream of consciousness
short-lived as a rainbow
they moisten realm of insufficiency
 
his arythmic heart
writes the last poem
full of inexpressible
self-dubts
will he make you happy
or walk away in failure?
 
careworn organism
mind animated
(mayby will bring the heart rythm back)
mayby God’s surprise
from sky’s palate
will bring death into agony
give chance to reach The Beggining
 
lasting in suffering
parting as apparent relief
 
 
 
The Breath
 
The way of reminiscence
goes to the departed
sinless years
exciting tracts of knowledge
stages of professional climbing
and saved stanzas
of an unfinished metaphor
of existence
 
I carry my family home at heart
that is as small as the house
and leaky
as a straw roof of a barn
 
soon the cliff of life
will fall into the unknown
I’ll try again
to capture her hands
but an inseparable embrace
will not be possible
 
the time has come for a wave
 
I touch the imperceptible
 

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