About the author:
Anna Swir (Świrszczyńska) was born in 1909 in Warsaw,
Poland, to an artistic though impoverished family. She worked from an early
age, supporting herself while she attended university to study medieval
Polish literature. In the 1930s she worked for a teachers' association,
served as an editor, and began publishing poetry. Swir joined the Resistance
during World War II and worked as a military nurse during the Warsaw
Uprising; at one point she came within an hour of being executed before she
was spared. In addition to poetry, Swir wrote plays and stories for children
and directed a children's theater. She lived in Krakow from 1945 until her
death from cancer in 1984. (from the Poetry
Foundation)
About the translator:
Piotr Florczyk is a poet and
translator. In addition to Building the Barricade and Other Poems of
Anna Swir, he is the editor and translator of Been and Gone: Poems
of Julian Kornhauser (Marick Press, 2009) and the collection of
translations of poems by Jacek Gutorow, The Folding Star and Other Poems
(BOA Editions, 2012). Piotr Florczyk lives in Los Angeles.
Summer 2011
Table of Contents - Vol. VII, No. 2
Poetry Fiction Translations Reviews
ANNA SWIR (ŚWIRSZCZYŃSKA)
These poems have been published in Building the Barricade
and Other Poems of Anna Swir (Calypso Editions, 2011), which features
some of Swir's best poems about the 1944 Warsaw Uprising, as well as poems
in which her focus is the human body and her experiences of love and family.
More info at
www.calypsoeditions.org/bookstore/swir
Building the Barricade
We were
afraid building the barricade
under fire.
Barman, jeweler’s
mistress, barber,
all of us cowards.
The housemaid hit the ground
hauling a cobblestone and we were more afraid,
all of us cowards—
groundskeeper, stallholder, pensioner.
The pharmacist dragging the
toilet door
hit the ground,
and we got very scared,
smuggler girl,
dressmaker, tram driver,
all of us cowards.
The boy from a reform
school fell dragging a sandbag,
and we got scared for real.
Although no one forced us,
we built the barricade
under fire.
He Steals Furs
A shell blows
up the door
in a fur shop.
A man jumps inside,
grabs an armful
of furs,
struggles, runs to the gate.
At the gate another shell
tears apart a man.
He Got Lucky
for Prof. Władysław Tatarkiewicz
An old man
leaves
the house, carrying books.
A German soldier grabs the books
and throws
them in the mud.
The old man picks up the books,
the solider hits
him in the face.
The old man falls,
the solider kicks him and walks
away.
The old man
lies in mud and blood.
Underneath, he feels
books.
POLISH ORIGINALS
Budując barykadę
Baliśmy
się budując pod ostrzałem
barykadę.
Knajpiarz, kochanka jubilera,
fryzjer,
wszystko tchórze.
Upadła na ziemię służąca
dźwigając
kamień z bruku, baliśmy się bardzo,
wszystko tchórze –
dozorca,
straganiarka, emeryt.
Upadł na ziemię aptekarz
wlokąc drzwi od
ubikacji,
baliśmy się jeszcze bardziej, szmuglerka,
krawcowa,
tramwajarz,
wszystko tchórze.
Upadł chłopak z poprawczaka
wlokąc worek z piaskiem,
więc baliśmy się
naprawdę.
Choć nikt
nas nie zmuszał,
zbudowaliśmy barykadę
pod ostrzałem.
Kradnie futra
Pocisk rozrywa drzwi
sklepu z futrami.
Człowiek wskakuje do środka,
chwyta naręcze
futer,
biegnie dźwigając do bramy.
W bramie drugi pocisk
rozrywa człowieka.
Udało mu się
prof. Władysławowi Tatarkiewiczowi
Stary człowiek
opuszcza dom, niesie książki.
Niemiecki żołnierz wyrywa książki,
rzuca
w błoto.
Stary człowiek podnosi,
żołnierz bije go w twarz.
Stary człowiek pada,
żołnierz kopie go i odchodzi.
Stary człowiek
leży w błocie i krwi.
Czuje pod sobą
książki.
© Anna Swir
