John Paul II
Before God had summoned Him,
He sang for us a tender song
as far as the peeks of the Tatra Mountains,
Intoning with human voice a song of the earthly homeland
Spreading broadly his arms,
As though wishing to embrace to his heart
The sun, heaven, air, and all of humanity.
John Paul II: a thunderbolt on the sky of Poland,
Illuminating our hearts and minds.
In its light, we saw ourselves
For a fraction of a second.
The sound of a comet, calling,
“Do not fear.”
The sewer sowed in our hearts
Seed of hope and optimism.
The fisherman catching people, who could silence
The sea of human voices.
The hero of our times
Could take the past ages of many nations
And forge them into the present.
A philosopher… An artist, who has on his side
Religion and God, truth and hope,
The poetry of Norwid, the taste
Of ripening blackberries, the sweetness of honey in July,
The joy of singing birds,
The breath of the forests and the hills, a pine’s shade,
The rhythm of mountain streams, the smell of grass,
And words for a spring: “He who wants to reach
The origin must go uphill,
Against the stream. Onwards, do not yield.”
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem