’s poems (born 1967) give the reader a lot of genuine pleasure. They are written in powerful, colloquial language, full of caustic humour. In Calypso we find lots of unconventional ideas about the lesser and greater events of the modern world the world outside, and the world of the individual soul, the world of highbrow art and the world of pop culture. This distillation of the sparkling intelligence of a contemporary Pole and European produces uncompromising poetry though it isn’t cruel, just tortuous, with pain that’s cushioned by laughter.
The sea is the colour green.
There’s a big splash of blood on the pure white sand.
An elderly lady is dying in a bar, without eating up,
without being ready. The telephone takes pre-paid cards.
Some people are hard to recognise, even
on the street. The start of April and here, just imagine,
there is snow. Contradictions, contradictions. Eeh,
better late than never, better never.
So can’t we possibly be any more alive? Even when we’re all alone
we appeal to the metaphor of the heart.
Imagine a situation where
no other situation comes into your mind.
Religion in an era of secularisation
Now the Churches will probably take on greater meaning
especially the Catholic Church it’s the mother of all
the other Churches Orthodoxy hasn’t
produced any other Churches just some sects that
are like lice or other kinds of insect to be stepped on
The Catholic Church always knew perfectly well
what is common heresy and what the herald of a new
Church in this way repeating the gesture of Noah the patriarch
who didn’t take dinosaurs onto the Ark because they were too heavy
but took the lice only because he had them in his hair
So having got a tight grip on events, the Church
will gain height and like an aeroplane
will lead us into the clouds behind which pass
only the minds of sociologists and eaters of rice
who don’t need much to make them turn savage
Translated by Antonia Lloyd-Jones