Diabeł mój [English translation]

Nobody taught me „Pater Noster”,1

I never went to a confession,

Therefore from the hairlock to the fly

A lot of devils in me stay.

Except for these, caring for the inspiration,

My mood and the pleasures,

I appreciate the most

The one I carry in my spine.

He did so stiffen my neck’s vertebrae,

That in spite of threat and persuasion -

Neither a sermon nor a pillory

Will successfully bow my head.

Not that I don’t want to! I always envy

Those , who can escape extermination

And combine their ovine talents

Into herds of mutual approval.

Because of this deformity – I wound the healthy,

Bring trouble on the reconciled,

Every collective reconciliation

I change to „unity – minus One”.

I do not defend myself with the scorn.

I do not dirty myself with the ashes.

But I will live and die – unbending,

Willing or not – with my head high.

If the unbending disgust the Creator -

Let him refuse my redemption.

Though, likely, he will understand me, considering

That he too endures in loneliness in the space.

For what are my little sins.

When the meek He has – in millions.

I bothered Him quite rarely

And only – in the name of the denied.

1. in the original: diminutive name of the basic Catholic prayer. Actually, today it’s said not in Latin but in national languages