Translated by Andrzej Żurek

Even in boldest thoughts

He knows the taste of loneliness
Like taste of vodka which he drinks
With a growing disgust
But still he helds out his hand
To take another glass
Of this (as he calls it) familiar bitterness

He knows what so called emmigration is
As he has been deep in it
For years Up to his neck
Like in some bog (from school
he recalls it’s a favourite environment
of many reptiles)

Even in his boldest thoughts
He didn’t expect it would be
His home his country
Or shall we say
His homeland

Like everybody else – for
He is a human being –
He dreams of a small house
with a garden
Not one made of cards
But a real one
With a fire place
And a spacious basement
To invite guests
Turn on the stereo
Let them listen...
Let them have a good time…
Let them see...

But in the meantime
Let’s have another one