On those long-distance buses, you can hear,
Despite the air con blowing in your ear,
Unearthly cries and uproars straight from hell,
So you may know that all is going well.
...
My name is Jarek Zawadzki. In addition to writing poetry, I translate poetry, fiction and non-fiction from English and Chinese (both modern Mandarin and Classical Chinese) to Polish. I am a regular member of the Polish Literary Translators Association. My education history: Chinese Studies (major: Chinese linguistics) , MA degree, University of Warsaw; English Studies (major: literary translation studies) , MA degree with distinction, Jagiellonian University in Krakow; Postgraduate Diploma in Specialized Translation, Jagiellonian University.)
Travelling To A Small Town
On those long-distance buses, you can hear,
Despite the air con blowing in your ear,
Unearthly cries and uproars straight from hell,
So you may know that all is going well.
You reach the destination, at long last,
And you just stand there, panicked and aghast,
For all the travelers getting off the bus
Make ever louder noise and greater fuss.
And by and by you're on the other side
To face the sun, weak-kneed and bleary-eyed,
You claim your piece of baggage from the trunk,
And, dragging it, you know you must get drunk.
You slowly head toward the station's door.
Out, out! For travel you can bear no more.
But there behind the fence, right by the gate,
A bunch of screaming taxi drivers wait.