Juliusz Kossak (1824-1899)
Hop, hop, cwałem koniu wrony,
Leć do półków, do méj żony,
Gallop, gallop my black horse,
Go to regiments, to my wife...
Illustration to the romantic poem "Dumka" by Józef Bohdan Zaleski (1802-1886), born in Bohatyrka (near Kyiv), writing poetry in Polish and representing the so-called "Polish Romantic Ukrainian school" - a group of the early 19th century artists, fascinated with Ukrainian history, culture, music, folklore and, of course, the Cossack theme.
Illustration has been published in the Polish weekly newspaper "Tygodnik Ilustrowany", 121, 23.04.1870. Available here:
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"Wesoły jestem zewnątrz, szczególnie między swoimi (swoimi nazywam Polaków), ale w środku coś mnie morduje — jakieś przeczucia, niepokoje, sny albo bezsenność — tęsknota — obojętność — chęć życia, a w moment chęć śmierci — jakiś słodki pokój, jakieś odrętwienie, nieprzytomność umysłu, a czasem dokładna pamięć mnie dręczy. Kwaśno mi, gorzko, słono, jakaś szkaradna mieszanina uczuć mną miota! Głupszym niż kiedy."
— Fryderyk Chopin w liście do Tytusa Woyciechowskiego, Paryż, 25 grudnia 1831 r.
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“The terrestrial life of Napoleon is finished. As the head of a political party, as the leader of a dynasty, Napoleon no longer exists. But who here will deny the existence and permanent activity of his spirit? Religious men, military men and statesmen consult it by meditating upon his works and actions. Is not such meditation a true prayer? The mission of inspired artists is to raise themselves to the region in which this great spirit dwells, to evoke it and to make it visible to us. Napoleon is the archetype of the new art.”
— Adam Mickiewicz, 1844
Source: Lloyd S. Kramer, Threshold of a New World: Intellectuals and the Exile Experience in Paris, 1830-1848
Mickiewicz is regarded as national poet in Poland, Lithuania and Belarus. He is one of Poland’s “Three Bards” and is widely regarded as Poland’s greatest poet. He is the author of Pan Tadeusz, one of the last great epic poems in European literature.
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just read THIS and im devastated its still Odyniec’s Listy z podróży i’m gonna translate it into English below I paraphrased it a bit since it’s XIX century Polish. Odyniec writes:
Naprzód [Adam] zaczął zbywać [mnie] żartami, następnie chciał zbyć ofuknieniem: „Nudzisz mię! dajże mi pokój!”, itd. Ale gdy i to nie pomagało, chciał mię, jak się zdaje, przestraszyć; i zatrzymawszy się nagle przede mną (bo chodził wkoło z zapalona fajka), wlepił we mnie wzrok swój badawczy i odezwał się jakimś grobowym, wyraźnie udanym głosem: ,,Czy ty myślisz, że ja i ciebie nie przeczytam na wskroś?”. Nie zlaklem się jednakże i odpowiedziałem wesoło: ,,Czytaj sobie co chcesz: wzdłuż, wszerz w poprzek i na ukos będziesz wiedział przynajmniej jak ja ciebie kocham.” [Adam] Zaczął śmiać się i skonczylo się na zwyczajnym gładzeniu włosów.
At first he [Adam] started to kid me, then he tried to make me leave him alone by complaining: “You’re making me bored! Leave me alone!” etc. But it didn’t work out so he started intensively staring at me and spoke, his voice fake sepulchral so you could tell it was yet another joke: “Do you think I can’t see through you?”. I didn’t let him scare me and replied cheerfully: “See through me all you want. Then you will know how much I love you.” He [Adam] laughed and played with my hair.
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Do Ludwika Szpitznagla
Ludwiku!... jak dwie gwiazdy podobne na niebie,
Wiecznie nieznana siła oddala od siebie,
Tak i my na tej świata rozległej przestrzeni,
Choć myślą, sercem blizcy — losem rozłączeni.
Wkrótce, gdy ci na morzu jutrzenka zaświeci,
Kiedy usłyszysz w żaglach lekkie wiatru tchnienie,
Pomyśl, że to ostatnie przyjaźni westchnienie,
Które na skrzydłach myśli aż za tobą leci.
Jeden, jeden nam tylko skarb teraz zostaje:
Myśl, która nie zna tamy i za sercem płynie;
Ona ciebie przeniesie w twe rodzinne kraje,
A mnie na brzegi Nilu, w Afryki pustynie.
Pozwól więc, pozwól bujać swojej wyobraźni,
Poświęć chwilę wspomnieniom i szczerej przyjaźni.
Niestety, jak dwie gwiazdy podobne na niebie,
Wiecznie nas przeznaczenie oddali od siebie.
~ Juliusz Słowacki
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NIEPEWNOŚĆ by Adam Mickiewicz (1824-1829)
I found two translations, one sounding better and other more accurate:
IINDECISION by Adam Mickiewicz [source]
When I don't see you, I don't sigh nor cry,
I don’t lose my senses as you walk on by,
But if I don't see you, if you don't return,
Something in me's lacking, some desire burns,
And suffering strange longings, I wonder thereof:
Is it only friendship, or else is it love?
Whenever you vanish, I can’t ever seem
to recall your face, like a faded dream.
However, unwittingly, it seems I do find
That it is forever imprinted on my mind.
And so once again I wonder thereof:
Is it merely friendship, or else maybe love?
I've suffered oft-times, yet didn’t think at all
to trouble your home, come baring my soul;
Wandering without aim, never minding where,
Without any purpose I come to your stairs,
And entering your home I wonder thereof:
What was it led me here – friendship or else love?
For your very health, I'd give half my life,
To give you true peace, down to hell I'd fly;
Though my heart is not the possessive kind,
it would serve as home for your heart and mind.
And so, pray tell me, what am I sick of:
Is it only friendship, or was it always love?
>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>>
UNCERTAINTY by Adam Mickiewicz [source]
When my eyes can't see you, I don't sigh or cry,
When I see you am not going to die
However, when I haven't seen you for long,
I miss something and want someone to behold
And longing I can not make question off
Is this friendship? Or is this love?
I can not once when you go from sight
Bring back your image to my mind;
However, I feel despite my wish sometimes,
That I always call you to the remembrance.
And, again, I repeat the question above
Is this friendship? or is this love?
I suffered a lot but I did not intend
To come and tell you what was in my head;
Walking aimlessly, not minding the road,
I do not notice when I cross your threshold;
Enter and I can’t help myself from troting out
What has led me here? friendship or love?
For your health, I could lose my life,
Descend to hell to make you safe and sound;
Though in my heart there is not bold desire
To be your bedrock and hold you peace and queit
And again I ask myself the question above
Is this friendship? Or is this love?
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