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All translations below are my own. Copyright, if not expired, is held by the original authors.

Yalta

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Translation of Jałta by Jacek Kaczmarski

Like new tsars' residence,
Servants know their duties,
Far were the Tatars resettled,
From where the world is judged.
Windows now see, the walls listen
How coughs with his cigar the Lion,
How squeaks the wheelchair pushed
with the broken Democrat inside.
But nobody sees and nobody hears,
Highlander's doings in the Crimean night,
When with faithful comrades gesture
He speaks with his legendary power.
Don't blame Stalin,
He was not pulling the strings,
It was not his fault,
That Rooslvelt in Yalta had no strength.
When the triumvirate together formed
the history of the world,
- It's obvious who played the Caesar's role
and such is the truth behind Yalta.
In the weak light of cigar's butt
Floated the face of Albion's lion:
Let's not talk about the Baltic,
Why would Europe need so many states?

Poles? - after all there is just the matter
that they have to live somewhere...
Poland, it was always trouble...
The Cripple cares and shakes.
But sooths them master of the house,
Stroking his yellowish mustache:
My country will lend them a helping hand,
Later they can do what they want.

Don't blame Churchill,
He was not pulling the strings,
After all, the triumvirate was only there
So Stalin would get what he wanted.
Who values peace,
Will always back out of the fight - 
Win will the one who fears not the wars
And such is the truth behind Yalta.

The palace's walls strain to hear
When to the Cripple speaks the Lion -
- I believe in Stalin's truthful words
He seems to care for Soviet's blood.

And so the Cripple nods to that,
Undaunted guardian of democracy
Stalin, he's the man of the century
The men of state, the leader!
 
As alliance of great ones, it's not a cabal
It's the world's future - freedom, order - 
With them, the weak will survive,
And receive his share... of losses.

Don't blame Roosevelt,
Think what he had to endure!
Pipe, cigar's smoke and bottle,
Churchill, who cared not for alliances.
After all, three empires talked
about the borders, unclear ones:
- and in the detail, Beria laid,
And such is the truth behind Yalta. 
So delegations flew away,
Quiet became the tsar's Crimean castle.
And when the West was loud with guns,
Humans like cattle were hearded East. 

The free world later celebrated freedom,
The fronts suddenly became empty - 
Flowers fell on the president's grave,
And there were transports, so many transports. 
The red dawn follows the night
The voters voted, and Churchill left!
And there the transports of live people,
And there the camps of long death.
So don't blame the Trinity,
History's judgment was behind it
Designed in every detail - 
Each of them protected, what they had.
They could have erred, in the moment -
He was not a Pole, not a Balt...
Only the victims are always right!
And such is the truth behind Yalta.

Walls

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Translation of Mury by Jacek Kaczmarski

He had youth and vision, they were legion
He aided them with the song, singing of near dawn.
They lit a thousand candles for him, their heads in smoke,
He sang that it is time for the wall to fall,
They sang together with him:
Pull the bars from the walls!
Loose the chains, break the whip!
And the walls will fall, fall fall!
And bury the old world!
Soon they knew the song by heart and the melody itself
Carried the old words, shivers of heart and heads.
So they sung, the clapped in the rythm, like shots,
And the chain was a burden, delayed was the dawn...
And he still sung and played:
Pull the bars from the walls!
Loose the chains, break the whip!
And the walls will fall, fall fall!
And bury the old world!
And they saw their numbers, they felt the strenght and time,
And with the song that the dawn is near, they marched in the streets;
They fell the monuments and cried out - He is with us! He is against us!
Who's alone he is our worst enemy!
And the singer was also alone.
He looked at the steadily marching crowds,
In silence he listed to the thunder of their steps,
And the walls grew, grew, grew
The chain moved at their feet...

About the etiquette at the table

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Translation of O Zachowaniu się przy stole by Jacek Kaczmarski (not finished).

Polish table prepared. On the tablecoth of standards
Amidst sweat, honey, blood - millennium old pattern shines.
On it dined the king, chancellor, priest, peasant and hussar,
Threads come from the Ottomans, Germans added the skills.
Lithuanian sew stubbornness into Poles carelessness.
Wild emotions of heart the Cossack brought, sadness - the Jew.
Italian latin sentences braided in the patient material,
Esthetical conflict causing with the cyrillic.
Penelope of the nations - what she weaved she undued,
Greed of the suitors sealed her fate;
Until the work was taken by cold Deianira
Weaving funeral clothes for doomed armies of Herculeses.
On tragicomedic brocade we dine,
When from straw in the boots we take out our spoons!
Maybe not like we used too, not richer, not wealthier
But - on ours we reach for the bowls and chalices!
Great hunger is caused by lords' fresh pâté,
Strong cordial of ciuta throws a spark into the dry souls!
We bite into the bloody meat
And for holidays - we savor the holy bread.
For delicate stomachs this is to serious a meal,
The heads filled with thought have no room for more!
Bodies shiver amids the golden crockery,

I gave up on that one... it gets way to difficult at that point - too many (old) words that are hard to translate...

Report

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Translation of Meldunek by Jacek Kaczmarski

In the quarries my people are fast and precise,
We can see enthusiasm and honest engagement
Every day everybody reports for work nobody is slacking off nobody steals
All chains and tools are always in perfect condition
Work goes according to plan local marble is of the highest class
Death rate is low physical condition is monitored
Efficiency of work constantly rises and is independent of race
Although on all fronts of work most endurance have the Germanics tribesman
We all realize how important is our toil for the state,
Because of it buildings will raise that will amaze the world
Squares streets straight roads triumphal arcs for the emperors
Ports temples monuments inns and brothels
In them our part pride that will last centuries
And so from that we draw strength even if we are forgotten
Loyal and trustworthy till the end we will mine the marble
That is the report like all the previous ones of older slave
Spartacus the Thracian

Clock

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Translation of Zegar by Jacek Kaczmarski

Those who cry "Freedom" - tighten ropes
Those who cry "Bravery" - shake with fear
He who cries "Memory" - forgot
Those who cry "Mercy" - dream of executions
"Wisdom" - repeats the fool
"Honesty" - applauds lier
For peace pleads the berseker
For vegetarianism - the cannibal.
In the clock that is winded every days
Arrows have fallen long ago
And the weights of unknown events
Predict two directions of the pendulum...
Those who cry "Strength" - their voice falters
Those who cry "Loyalty" - betrayed
Those who cry "Greatness" - so little
"Transparency" - declares a hidden voice
Demand the rules of the game - cheaters
For death vote the defenders of life
Who calls to believe - doesn't.
In the clock that is winded every days
Arrows have fallen long ago
And the weights of unknown events
Predict two directions of the pendulum...
For recognition calls the belittled
For piety - pride in chasuble
For quiet - the bell ringer
For honor - bulletproof head
"I" - squeks one in the crowd
"We" - who is afraid to act alone
He who values love - unloved
Who has hope - measures the ropes.
In the clock that is winded every days
Arrows have fallen long ago
And the weights of unknown events
Predict two directions of the pendulum...
When the thread of time goes back -
It will sound again...


The conversion of Kniaz Jarema

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Translation of Kniazia Jaremy Nawrócenie by Jacek Kaczmarski

Tremble in fear Cossack masses,
horsers rear high,
Knyaz Jarema is converting,
Discarding Orthodox faith.
Storm is coming, hearts are uneasy,
Peasants - bearded priests and icons,
And him - Lord King of Rus,
Duchy bringing to the Crown.
Twenty years his soul slept,
Till he saw Rome's cross' light,
Knyaz Jarema, Knyaz Jarema,
His children will fear his wrath.
Louldy plead Ruthenian folk:
- Look into your soul, lord,
Cause you give up all for nothing!
And forsake us with your politics!
Their pleas powerless,
Knyaz prayed all night,
- Who loves me - will go with me
Or I will see him on stake!
Twenty years his soul slept,
Till he saw Rome's cross' light,
Knyaz Jarema, Knyaz Jarema,
Blood of Rus' he offers to God.
- You will not reach through piety,
Royal antechambers,
Firestorm will grip Zaporizhia ,
Your inheritance will burn!
- Before the inheritance is my homeland,
Before my homeland is salvation,
For Christ's wounds,
Let the generations burn!
Twenty years his soul slept,
Till he saw Rome's cross' light,
Knyaz Jarema, Knyaz Jarema,
He inflamed the souls of many.
- Blood for you, not the offices,
Hate, not love, for prince of Rus',
We are for Rzeczpospolita,
Like nails to be shortened!
- If he shortens, he will be burnt,
For I will block with my cross,
The Coroniers will yet see,
Wisniowieccy's on their trone.
For hearts content the topic,
Lies in the crypt under glass,
Knyaz Jarema, Knyaz Jarema,
Father of children put on stake,
Knyaz Jarema, Knyaz Jarema,
Neophite, as politician.

September's Ballad

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Translation of Ballada Wrześniowa by Jacek Kaczmarski.

Long have we waited for this day,
With hope impatient in our soul,
When without words, Comrade Stalin,
Would move the arrows on the map.
A single hurrah was heard along the borders,
And before it ended, the guns spoke.
Into the battle, with lightning speed,
The Red Army was rushing.
What is this new history?
Surprised will ask the Europe.
What? Those are the boys of Molotov,
And allies of Ribbentrop.
Victories mark their advance,
Banner of freedom is full of glory.
Heads of Polish owners,
Are paving the entire Ukraine.
Podolia falls, Volhynia pays homage,
The people welcome new system with a song,
Mansions and churches burn
And Christ with a bullet in the back of his head.
On the battlefields hands rise
Into a breathtaking common fist
Innumerable children of Stalin,
Invincible spawn of Hitler.
The Versailles bastard is gone from the maps
Jew and Belorussian are now free
No more will Polish hand
Force them against their will.
New freedom is told to them by Pravda
The entire world is now informed
That one banner will unite from now on
The star, the sickle, swastika and hammer.
Those days will not be forgotten by history
When Old World stood still in suprise
And our descendants will celebrate
After the first September - the seventeenth

Black Oceans (fragment)

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Translation of Black Oceans by Jacek Duka.

Now on official pages here

University's poem

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REKTOR
Przeskakuje najwyższe budynki za jednym zamachem
Jest silniejszy od lokomotywy
Jest szybszy od pocisku
Chodzi po wodzie
Rozmawia z Bogiem
PROREKTOR
Przeskakuje niskie budynki za jednym zamachem
Jest silniejszy od lokomotywy parowej
Czasami dogania pocisk
Chodzi po wodzie, gdy morze jest spokojne
Rozmawia z Bogiem, jeżeli otrzyma specjalne pozwolenie
DZIEKAN
Przeskakuje niskie budynki z rozbiegu i o tyczce
Jest prawie tak silny jak lokomotywa parowa
Potrafi strzelać z pistoletu
Chodzi po wodzie na krytym basenie
Czasami Bóg zwraca się do niego
PRODZIEKAN
Ledwo przeskakuje budkę portiera
Przegrywa z lokomotywą
Czasami może trzymać broń bez obawy o samookaleczenie
Bardzo dobrze pływa
Rozmawia ze zwierzętami
PROFESOR
Obija się o ściany próbując przeskoczyć jakikolwiek budynek
Może zostać przejechany przez lokomotywę
Nie dostaje amunicji
Pływa pieskiem
Mówi do ścian
DOKTOR
Wbiega do budynków
Rozpoznaje lokomotywę dwa na trzy razy
Moczy się pistoletem na wodę
Utrzymuje się na wodzie tylko dzięki kamizelce ratunkowej
Bełkocze do siebie
PANI Z DZIEKANATU
Podnosi budynki i przechodzi pod nimi
Zwala lokomotywę z torów
Łapie pocisk zębami i go rozgryza
Zamraża wodę jednym spojrzeniem...
...Jest Bogiem

The Coming of Titans

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Translation of Przybycie tytanów by Jacek Kaczmarski.

The titans are coming
Sent to the world
To remedy evil!
And it just came,
That they have already remedied it somewhere
Their steps have been felt for a while
But their silhouettes are still not seen
We only feel the earth shake
Under their steps which drive it deep
To East, to West we carefully look
Whether we can see them over the horizon
But still nothing, except their steps
Some are holding their breath...
Others don't hide a new thought
- Maybe it is only ours heartbeat?
The titans are coming
Sent to the world
To remedy evil!
And it just came,
That they have already remedied it somewhere
Press criticizes false beliefs,
But people are painting their houses
Prisoners are being released early
Army doubles the recruitment
Flowers are hiding artillery
Tanks are ready in the forests
Agencies TASS and PAP are silent
But we can still hear the titans step!
They can be felt in every move and word
- The titans are coming! The titans are coming! The titans are coming! The titans are coming! 
Thunder! Boom! Creak! Dust!


The titans came
To Earth descended
To remedy evil
We were too small
- They didn't see
Trampled