SOLDIERS OF EXHIBITIONS
When the destiny of war was to be determined
And the armored ringing was at Berlin's gate
For them, this war is never over.
The fight for freedom for them begins
With enslavement imposed by force
Through a abroad neighbour strategy from the east
Which in fact in its assumptions
He was going to break the spirit of the Polish nation
Freedom, independence, their sacred slogan
Born to defend the homeland from the enemy
They gave their lives for their dreams
For freedom through the victim's way
False Freedom and Hypocritic Friendship
She was always a alien to the Cursed Soldiers
That's how they taught them, how they raised them.
From the youngest years, from a small boy
Their armed resistance, though in unequal combat
He gave hope, they kept talking about it
That the times will come, that the minute will come
When the Polish eagle will be with the crown again
An example of courage, valor and sacrifice
Which the Cursed Soldiers wanted to make
In execution rooms, prisons and gallows
Because freedom of homeland is measured by crosses
This wound won't cover you with white.
Not a soldier asked me, but a executioner in uniform.
Don't dress, let my blood land drink
civilizations will strengthen the doubted foreground
Let it drip red, let it spit red
As far as possible from the children of the homeland under the plot
Let no 1 break my grave
death more permanent than marble statues forged
Don't hug me tight, or you'll get your robe dirty
wipe off the bucket there, the water is not stained with my blood
The ghost was crushed by the betrayal of the neighbors, like a rag
But you must endure undefeated by our strength.
And erstwhile I close my eyes sing about the orchards
Let me dream a walk on the spring path
I don't care about the sun. It'll do me good.
For the epitaph, the words I would do...
Shork
___________________________________________________________________________________
Poems of Maria Dorota Pieńkowska
Accommodation ‘L’
You let them lie down in green pastures
You let them lie on the Connector
under the cemetery wall under the sky under the sun
The full measurement of inhuman life on earth
Seventy years of silence, you let them know.
and lie and let you mock
Who saw the meadows
So red with blood?
Who has seen specified pastures?
The souls of them in your hands, Lord.
Their bodies in bloody lobes
white plate at the table
forever empty plate and crying
for a year and silence like a chaotic animal
at the door
They're standing on the telephone with their grandparents and watching
for the children's coffins of their young fathers
murdered for the first time
and second
and third
How small space a bone needs
A long time of flesh and blood!
They're going to take them far to Wolka.
Because they're utilized to waiting.
So they'll be waiting for dawn
who will come
Because the archeologist girl
So unexpectedly she stayed
Their mother
And a boy in a Boy Scout uniform
with fatherly tenderness
carries light bones
His Rotmaster
These children have already taken their own hands
They and our fate
24 August AD 2012
****
Only surviving fire
He can talk.
With you, Captain.
We bring you flames
For we know the nature of fire
The 1 you burned
We light his torches.
They're afraid of us
Like your gentle eyes
It's besides bright a look.
In which they saw fire
extinguished with elaborate torture
buried deep in this land
On which they live more and more
Still louder
To not hear silence
The silence that grows
and fills with fire
Cursed
You are not in the lines of skillful poems
what they can do
with flavoured colours
of each plant
with specified tenderness until fear
You're not here.
in a dream in love in life
in beautiful rooms
with wide windows
with good views
world
They don't want to hear about you.
Because you bring unnecessary questions to anyone:
Why life?
Why die?
Cast out like beggars
of all street houses
And the locks that were lifted from the ruins
Long Buried
uncomfortable like tight shoes
You stand barefoot helpless
on the time threshold
very tired of your death
Be patient.
They'll give you any room.
Just let the password go:
It's okay!
They'll bring you flowers.
Colours of fragrances
And what else will they find?
in useful lexicons
They're going to get to your feet.
empty ears of words
Zbigniew Herbert
An Angel Hearing
When she stands before them
in the shadow of suspicion
He's inactive alive.
of light matter
eons of his hair
They're tight in the lock.
innocence
After the first question
The cheeks run blood
blood is distributed
tools and interrogation
Iron cane
Free fire
limits
his body
hitting the back
fix the spine
between puddle and cloud
After respective nights
The work is finished
the angel's leather throat
It's full of sticky settlements.
How beautiful is the moment
When he falls on his knees
Guilt
saturated with content
language fluctuating
between billed teeth
and a confession
They hang him head down
with the hair of an angel
The wax drops are dripping
forming on the floor
A simple prophecy
![Płocczanie, harcerze, służby, samorządowcy. Msza św. w intencji Ojczyzny w katedrze [FOTO]](https://static.ddbelchatow.pl/galleries/698af96a-0898-41dd-81be-7336c5929bcd)
