Wojna postu z karnawałem [English translation]

Unusual assemblage on the midtown market

In the windows, gates and near the well, in church and in the tavern.

Market traders, monks, jugglers and dwarfs

Colorful swarm swarms, swarms around fuss.

Work has become fun and fun has become work.

Dices are rolling on the ground, playing cards are being teared,

Those who don’t play are unimportant, those who play – lose

But among rabble you can’t distinguish who is who.

In the doors of temples, on tray cloths – crosses for three bobs

Absolved are pouring out form the side doors.

Almoners are kneeling in ashes between monks,

You can’t tell who is saint and who is prude.

Whole town has gone insane,

None of graybeards or striplings knows

If the fast is carnival,

Or carnival is fast!

Patron of juggles has backed a hundred-liter barrel

Gut – shield, helmet – guffaw on the fat face.

He speared baked pig’s head on his lance

There will be chow, will be drinking, will be loot to grab

Against him – wooden throne harnessed by priests,

And on the throne sits skinny apostle of fast.

He’s already apologizing God, for his victory,

And instead of lance, he got hold of Peter’s Paddle.

Backers are excelling in slogans and devotions,

Minstrel sings how brother turned against brother.

In overcrowded tavern rabble waits for the outcome,

Child waves a pennant – a great battle is coming.

Whole town has gone insane,

None of graybeards or striplings knows

If the fast is carnival,

Or carnival is fast!

I’m sitting by the window looking from above, I have whole world in my eye

I see who steals what, loses, what for they look for in the jam.

When the dusk comes, I’ll go to church and confess sins,

During night I will go through the market and gather up leftovers.

From them I’ll prepare great carnival-fast feast

To amuse near and dear beggar folks.

So to understand all the truth in your company:

My soul desires fast, my body – carnival!