Saturday, September 1, 2018




in colorful dresses
with wreaths of July in the hair -
the sun was setting on the highlights.

The same smile
they covered us, home, garden,
until the flowers are ashamed
they humbly embraced the goblets.

Jealous dature greeting
they seduced with the smell,
sure of your place -
for nothing to try.

they looked with the eyes of love
the most beautiful, cleanest
infinitely trustful ...


Leaves fall from the trees again
they rustle the memorized song -
someone longs for traces.

You walk these roads.
The wind caresses the voice
laughter rocks branches -
stay with them for longer.

Here the emotion falls,
they remember moments
from time spent.

The soul is more and more often
she is praying for death.
Do not go far.


He will forget about us tomorrow
although time will go on
and on the clock face
again the wheel will roll.

The voice will be silent.
The wind will not find a look,
he will not hear a breath.
The fog will take names.

But today I can still
thank you that you have been.
Happiness that lifts,
evil which sometimes happens.

My strength in disease
advice, support, suffering.
Love without which,
emptiness will be existence.


Another day
he did not take the colors.
The sun amid the clouds
I was looking for clearances.

From filled benches
prayers flowed -
quiet as breath.

In a tiny wafer
after transubstantiation,
so good that it's unreachable

The heart fell silent
in the second of love.


He's not looking anymore, he does not have to,
solving slowed down -
even stubborn thoughts
they have time for prayer.

However, every morning,
the sun's ray just what
on crystals
day colors with color

discovers the unknown.
The wind from the peaks brings
new news.

Every day
getting quieter, getting farther
but closer to you.


At your fingertips,
but only the eyes look
touch of the wind
caresses the cheeks.

At your fingertips
but only a voice
Laughter desperately
it calms your desires.

And break out of silence,
to dance, to sing.
At your fingertips -
other ends of the world.


JADWIGA BUJAK-PISAREK Born on May 22, 1957 in Świebodzice. A clothing technician by education. Editorial secretary of Winner of many poetry competitions. Poet of the Year 2015 honored by the editorial staff of Dziennik E -Literaci Statuette for the overall activity on the literature field in the past five years 2010 - 2015. A member of the Literary Association 'Witryna' in Stalowa Wola. A member of the International Literary Artistic Group "Kwadrat" in Krakow. A member of the Association of Polish Authors in Warsaw. She has published four volumes, is a co-author of six literary issues. Ten Anthologies including one religious Her poems appeared in three international anthologies. Her poems are translated into English. They are published in the international monthly: "OUR POETRY ARCHIVE ONLINE MONTHLY POETRY JOURNAL ". For several years, he has been publishing on the website , where she gained a lot of regular readers. Participant of Festivals, literary workshops and meetings: Festival of Song and Patriotic Poetry in Lubaczów -IIIrd place for the poem "Still today"; First Festival "Lubaczów Poetic Autumn" in Lubaczów , where her two poems were available to the Museum of the Borderlands; • Participant of the 15th "Jurassic Poetic Autumn" from Złoty Potok and "Festival of Slavic Poetry" Cieszyn 2015; • Founder of the Non-affiliated Group of Saffo Poets; at GBP in Zebrzydowice and organizer of cyclical meetings in poetry in Zebrzydowice He leads a series of meetings on poetry at the D.S.S. in Cieszyn. Country Poland. Nationality-Polish. Mother Tongue –Polska. Resident of Polska

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