Polish Poetry
[Translated by Danuta Romanowska]

 

When a Child Is Sick

When in some home somewhere,
a child is sick with fever, cough,
And looks as if it will not be healthy,
When on the chair the night nurse falls asleep,
Who slips down as a bright cloud through the wall,
with coat rustling on the carpet?
Who comes out of the frame and bends over the sick?
Who changes the compress and corrects the pillow?
It is the Lady of Czestochowa - my Dear, it is our Holy Mother.

Kazimiera Illakowiczowna


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