Witkacy do kraju wraca [English translation]

Such is life after life, as is life from birth,

the suicidal ones are restless – they say.

Near half-century been eaten at by Soviet ground,

Despite my veins opening to Polish Polesie.

We all meet the devil that we're scared of -

my bones ploughed by a hardworking kolkhoznik,

And the world discovers my dramas again

Laughing their sides off, instead of trying to read

I lay myself shallowly

so feel how aroundly

Unrestfully wiggle

red worms

'till there were corpses

they all had their feasts

but the mundane hunger is

a real pain

Something tells me they'll unearth me from this hole

and celebrate my burying somewhere else.

I hear National Commission of Culture

talked about it in Moscow.

So when a red sells me to another red

and will zap me back to life for the nation's amusement-

I will never speak again,

so no nobody can wipe his face with the name Witkacy.

Yet in Zakopane

with goral at morgen

off my tits

I'm out in Tatras

and in entrails of my mind

I'll say it right

And send the thought straight

on all four winds