ŻEGARY IN AUGUST Poem by Piotr Sommer

And yet the grapes this year
have not forgotten, they still remember
how to be good, despite
all the days
marked scrupulously
in the calendar, and despite the very
different places, since
next to the date one could enter a name
from the calendar of places.

And even now nothing good can be thought
of someone like you, only the days
carry on oblivious
to other days, regardless of
whatever happened between them -
long evenings, short nights -
and what happened, tell me
if you know, ok?