JAN PICHETA

 

JAN PICHETA

 

***

my only job

is to write about you

silently

fastening the poem to the last button

tightly under the word’s neck

like a loop

to stop everything

so nothing inhumane comes out

of me

                        (tłum. Renata Cygan)

 

 

At the clear request

of my sleep

 

how to escape

when I don’t want to escape

how to leave

constantly hearing your steps

how not to dream

when you come in a dream

invited

              (tłum. Renata Cygan)

 

 

***

asylum

in a bird

in a leaf

in a nipple

            (tłum. Renata Cygan)

 

 

***

you know

how I like

your milky way

where from time to time

my fingers

wander

like a bunch of laughing

schoolboys

unwary

that that’s how

the happiness in space looks like

                  (tłum. Renata Cygan)

 

 

***

sinful I am only in my thoughts

apart from this

I am so holly

on the holiday

as if past the holiday

I were to become holly

but do not let me

my holly

once in a blue moon

   (tłum. Aleksandra Chrystowska-O’Shea)     

 

 

***

well,

how could I

compare you to a bug

unless

you don’t weigh more

                   (tłum. Renata Cygan)

 

 

***

I undress you

of all clothes

nails skin veins

I am standing before your naked soul

confessing

why I have sinned

so little

                         (tłum. Renata Cygan)

 

 

 

***

morning wounds

done by my kitties

the wild one and the domestic

so very similar

not surprising

– my blood

              (tłum. Renata Cygan)

 

 

***

I like you anyway

despite you haven’t eaten halva

I bought you

secretly from my wife

in Lidl

and I had to put the weight on

(cause I would not bin it)

Despite you did not want one more time

(cause I have not given a knuckle sandwich)

      (tłum. Aleksandra Chrystowska-O’Shea)

 

 

***

how good it is

near you

I will not die for sure

they will be surprised

the holy father

st. peter

and the archangel michael

how it’s possible

not to die

they don’t know

that your loves are better than wine

of small faith

that heaven is only after death

                        (tłum. Renata Cygan)

 

 

***

you taught me to walk

with my head held high

every day

to create a woman

kick ass

and caress

look

I’m already

a man

only why

in front of you

do I tremble

   (tłum. Renata Cygan)

 

 

***

I have not caught your eye deeply

but even at the edge the ocean

is up to the ankles

                    (tłum. Renata Cygan)

 

 

***

when you leave

I hold in my hand only

torn fingers of the wind

                  (tłum. Renata Cygan)

 

 

***

who can be more lonely

lonelier can only be

someone who is dying

who can be more alive

more alive can only be

someone who died

                (tłum. Renata Cygan)

 

***

behind my back

life has passed by

soundlessly

like a cat from room to room

before me passed death

soundlessly as if you closed

the door

before me

                (tłum. Renata Cygan

 

to be

as this cat

hurting no one

jumping on its own

shadow on the wall

or

chasing its own

tail

                (tłum. Renata Cygan)

 

anxiety in the room

an open window

your daisies

in the grass

           (tłum. Renata Cygan)

 

 

who am I

in the neighborhood of bees

white rose bush

dried worm

(tłum. Renata Cygan)

 

 

the circle of life

grandpa -newborn

   (tłum. Aleksandra Chrystowska-O’Shea)

 

 

years gone

only a touch

of summer

    (tłum. Aleksandra Chrystowska-O’Shea)

 

 

I’ ve left

life goes away

leaving droppings

    (tłum. Renata Cygan)

 

 

this is the end

ah

to become a plant

for casting

    (tłum. Renata Cygan)

 

 

what connects me to life

the same branch

which last year

yellowed

first

    (tłum. Renata Cygan)

 

a spring haiku

sparrows in forsythia

hand cut off

searching for touch

    (tłum. Renata Cygan)

 

luca signorelli

devil

thrown to the devils

way before gagarin

and even lajka

discovered weightlessness

he invented a new type of cruelty

waiting in line for the body

he knew how important is

what one doesn’t notice every day

(own eyes)

doesn’t hear

(own ears)

does not understand

(own conscience)

                    (tłum. Renata Cygan)

 

 

***

where are you going

little snail

on which leaf

too slippery for generations

                    (tłum. Renata Cygan)

 

 

***

do you know that issa

has already reached your navel

and now he has to detour

                    (tłum. Renata Cygan)

 

 

***

issa madly fell in love

with the morning fog

the poor man doesn’t know

her cruelty:

the fleeting properties

                  (tłum. Renata Cygan)

 

 

***

issa,

are you this dwarf

which seeks

a desperate princess

the mother of fools

                (tłum. Renata Cygan)

***

I looked at issa

he was all damp

he lost his

favourite cloud

cry issa

so important is

the evening fog

           (tłum. Renata Cygan)

 

 

***

don’t be scared issa

after all, your wings will grow

jump

             (tłum. Renata Cygan)

 

 

***

issa believes in re- descending

of morning mist

waiting to throw himself in her arms

from ponte della maddalena

he doesn’t know that the fog will happily

disappear

             (tłum. Renata Cygan)

 

 

***

issa is pissed off

he would beat your titties very hard with a whip

but so that it doesn’t hurt the butterfly

who likes to rest on them

            (tłum. Renata Cygan)

 

 

***

when issa eats a tootsie roll

he is thinking of tootsies

one somewhat bigger than the others

so many times bitten with the feeling that

this is the only thing that has sense

the soft stuffing

the uneven tootsies

    (tłum. Aleksandra Chrystowska-O’Shea)

 

 

 

 

 

***

on my calf

jumped a grasshopper

he strayed in the bathroom

he wanted to fly away on my leg

into the world

I brushed him off

like an old mother

firmly

once and for good

was that you?

my dear

issa

                 (tłum. Renata Cygan)

 

 

***

when I was groping

creaked breaking

snail shells

oh issa

how many of your

incarnations

                (tłum. Renata Cygan)

 

 

***

they learned to live without you

issa

flowering branch

falling leaf

trampled butterfly

                (tłum. Renata Cygan)

 

 

***

now I know what it means

to be a mantis

ah

only to have bigger

jaws

             (tłum. Renata Cygan)

 

 

***

I kiss

the front of your ass

I say

my first aid kit

             (tłum. Renata Cygan)

***

little thimble

the bellybutton boat waiting

gnome get paddles

     (tłum. Aleksandra Chrystowska-O’Shea)

 

 

***

the priceless pin of the breast

the nipple sticking out

stupefied of awe

    (tłum. Aleksandra Chrystowska-O’Shea)

 

 

atlantis

how far

do I wander in the footsteps

of your buttocks

           (tłum. Renata Cygan)

 

 

awe

oh to quit

your comb by the clit

so you crow

    (tłum. Aleksandra Chrystowska-O’Shea)

 

 

***

a charm so rare

you are a piece of art today

a girl with a pearl

people on the bridge

wayside dog

    (tłum. Aleksandra Chrystowska-O’Shea)

 

 

***

my tongue ached

when you were leaving

my palms ached

with which you stopped me

not to leave

your feet ached me

when you passed

by

    (tłum. Aleksandra Chrystowska-O’Shea)

 

 

 

***

the fish rode of the tongue

will you be full of skill

to filch my frenulum?

    (tłum. Aleksandra Chrystowska-O’Shea)

 

 

***

under your fingers a tadpole of your clitoris

turns to a small toad

such tiny toads were jumping over me

on kościuszko’s square

I was afraid that one might fall to my mouth

completely unnecessarily

       (tłum. Aleksandra Chrystowska-O’Shea)

 

 

***

full of dream

stripped to the cherry

on the swelled nipple

         (tłum. Aleksandra Chrystowska-O’Shea)

 

 

***

in the first instinct of happiness

I wanted to run fast

having seen you in front of the theatre

but the door of the speeding tram

stopped me

I understood how clumsy a man is

who desires the gift of penetrating the walls

                          (tłum. Renata Cygan)

 

 

***

how difficult it is

your teddy bear and other soft toys

from childhood on the couch next to

the still warm vibrator

and your words

– I adore you

when my fingers caress

you from the inside

                          (tłum. Renata Cygan)

 

 

 

 

 

***

you know sir

you look good

with your bold head

squeezed between thighs

you could stay as earless

lenin

     (tłum. Aleksandra Chrystowska-O’Shea)

 

 

***

when you got scared

that you did not answer calls from mummy

I thought you’d blame me:

– my teacher was constantly asking for

my orgasm

                                  (tłum. Renata Cygan)

 

 

***

– today we will not meet

mum may come back

she likes to surprise me

coming back sooner than announced

it would be a shock to her

if she found me in bed

with a guy 20 years older than her

– you say it so flirtatiously

that I would like to see your mother’s reaction

seeing us in bed

after all naturally

                                 (tłum. Renata Cygan)

 

***

after all

you should no longer call me

priest

especially since I lost

between your abandoned clothes

my clerical collar

                                     (tłum. Renata Cygan)

         

***

I have got you from clitoris

up to the eyes

so I want nothing more

I am hanging in midair

blown off by you

yesterday

        (tłum. Aleksandra Chrystowska-O’Shea)

***

it’s unbelievable

that there is a god

it’s unbelievable that there’s life

it’s unbelievable that the shadow is cast

by the tower of gluttony

it’s unbelievable that my foreskin

entwines your lips

and there is no god of life anymore

and there is no tower of gluttony

                            (tłum. Renata Cygan)

 

 

haiku for spring

how do they go together

a bold head

a shaved womb

    (tłum. Renata Cygan)

 

 

haiku for spring (II )

wherever you go

do not leave

your shell

   (tłum. Renata Cygan)

 

 

***

your embraces have left

bruises on my right triceps

and under my left elbow

completely different

on the triceps, the bruise is green

round like a five-zloty coin

under my elbow - long

reddish scratching

now I see how you came

asymmetrically

if I were herbert

I would have found

my subject for meditation:

the geometry of love

                (tłum. Renata Cygan)

 

 

***

I never thought

I would become a grandpa

(the one of the cane)

not the one of grandchildren

my sweetie

(the one of hot blows)

        (tłum. Aleksandra Chrystowska-O’Shea)

 

 

***

who can be more lonely

lonelier can only be

someone who is dying

who can be more alive

more alive can only be

someone who died

    (tłum. Renata Cygan)

  

JAN PICHETA

 

JAN PICHETA: was born on 21t June 1953 in Zawiercie. He finished Polish language studies at the Silesian University in Katowice. He was a football player in Upper Silesian Football Club Katowice and Beskid Skoczów FC, a teacher, a specialist in teaching the literature gifted, a chief editor of the local and regional press, a reporter of Radio Bielsko, a secretary of the Provincial Gazette, Krakow Times and the Silesian Tribune and the column writer for the Silesia Monthly. He is a co-creator and one of the Jury for the oldest literature competition in Poland – the Overview of the Childrens’s and Youth Literature “Lipa”, which takes place in Bielsko-Biała consecutively from 1983. Currently he is a chief executive of the Beskid Calendar and the football trainer of the Bielsko Sport Society Rekord in Bielsko-Biała. He released four poetry books and four reportage books. He is a secretary of the Silesian Branch of the Polish Writers’ Association.