Featured Poem

On somebody or other’s departure to Czerniowice on train 382, coach 13, couchette 52

When I lie to you, nothing happens
and it’s that fig withered from the roots up.
We walked past and you said try it
so I said, go, fig, but it didn’t leave
so I said, fig, dance, but it wouldn’t dance
so I said, fig, stand still while I cut you down
and guess what happened and how good it was.

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About the translation:
Poet:
Justyna Bargielska
Translator:
Maria Jastrzębska
Original language:
Polish
Issue:
2013 Number 3 - Secret Agents of Sense

About the author

Justyna Bargielska

Original poet

Justyna Bargielska

Justyna Bargielska (b.1977) is the author of four poetry volumes: Dating Sessions, China Shipphing, Dwa fiaty (Two Fiats; winn...

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Translator

Maria Jastrzębska

Maria Jastrzębska ’s latest collection is At the Library of Memories (Waterloo Press, 2013). Her work is widely anthologised a...

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