Poem by Małgorzata Borzeszkowska
Angels are waiting
Sad angels are sitting by the fence,
huddled together in silence,
and above them a white tablecloth with flowers
sewed with a thread of snow.
In the cold angels are sitting,
pale hands hiding in sleeves,
they’re looking through the gnarled boards:
Is it now, is he coming today?
And in angel’s unbridled hair
silver threads shine like stars –
it is for fear that he will mistake the way,
that in the blizzard he won’t find the cradle.
Increasingly whiter, lined with winds,
ailerons bent, a halo frozen.
“What if it’s not here,
too far, he won’t make it? “
Bright angels are worried
they mumble Christmas carols quietly.
Give them a piece of gingerbread and a word and a scarf.
Let them feel warmer,
before he comes
and happier until Christmas is there.