Polish Poetry



Czestochowa, Lourdes, Fatima
regardless of how I will call you
always the same in motherhood.
Loving and Good Mother
You give butterflies above the meadow
birds in the high clouds
dew drops on the rose petals
happiness during the day and quiet nights.
For you the nightingale in the lilac shrub sings psalms
fish dance in the stream
the echo in the cliff carries your name far away
when the waterfall calls for prayer.
But I, simple singer in the chorus,
For your glory - together with all the world
Carry a poem for You -
like a bouquet of herbs from the August meadow.

Jerzy Tawlowicz



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