A Translation Of Bortavo Bywislawa Szymborska Poem by Andy Brookes

It had so happened when that my mother had married
with Zbigniew B. from Dunska Wola.
And if they had a daughter, I wouldn't be her.
Maybe one with better memory for faces and names,
and for a tune she heard once.
One who infallibly knows which bird is which.
With highest grades in physics and chemistry
and slightly worse in Polish,
but one who secretly writes poems
which is directly more exciting than mine.

It had so happened when
that my father had married at the same time
with Jadwiga R. from Zakopane.
And if they had a daughter, I wouldn't be her.
Maybe someone who stubbornly gets their will through.
One who fears jumps in deep water.
Which lets itself be drawn by collective emotions.
Always seen in several places at once,
however, rarely with a book, more often in the yard
where she kicks football with the boys.

Maybe they both would have even met
in the same school and the same class.
But they are not a sibling,
not the least kinship.
And in the class photo they are far from each other.
Girls, come and sit here
- the photographer should have called -
the smallest at the front, the longest behind.
And now smile really beautifully when I give signs.
Fixed counting properly -
is everyone here?