Grzegorz Turnau - Pejzaż bez Ciebie

Landscape Without You
September like a carpet,
like none
seen of recent -
flaxen-green,
decorated richly
with the rays of sun.
A hot landscape of
stubble fields and cooling stars
upon the firmament of a cold sky -
of sadness that hangs
like the key of cranes -
a landscape without you.

Day after day,
a dream after dream,
the full and the new moon
and then the sun again.
Nights and days
still overly pretty-
the sunsets and
the helpless sunups.


A tired bicycle
frightening rooks
plods along a dirt road.
The postman is riding -
already he's under
the red rowanberry.
Complains about the stifling heat,
and has only a money order-
one hundred and nine zlotys!
Upon the same road
he returns. Desolation.
A landscape without you.



Day after day, etc.

On the horizon
the sun is melting
in colors of red gold.
By river arrives
the gray flotilla
of evening mists.

I walk through the field
where two poplars -
tree by tree -
look down from up high
into the space of abyss -
a landscape without you.

Day after day ... etc.

I think it is September
that made it so that I feel
almost nothing anymore.
I'm listening now
as the heat is dying and
the silence pulses.
I am sure you're fine
somewhere at this time
and surely cozy.
But around you there is
a landscape without sadness,
a landscape without me.

Nights and days
of which you know nothing,
the Fall and
a landscape without you