Over the house of
Capuletti and Montague,
Washed by rain, moved
by thunder,
Calm eye of deep blue
Looks at the ruins of
hostile castles,
At the crumbling gates
to gardens,
And throws a star from
on high.
Cypresses say that it
is for Juliet,
That it is for Romeo,
this tear drop from heaven
That fall on the graves
to water them,
But people say, and
they say with wisdom
That these are stones
rather than the tear drops
And nobody waits for
them.
Translated
by W.F.
Cyprian
Kamil Norwid (pron. Tzipryan Kameel
Norveed)(1821-1883)
Born in Warsaw, he wanted to be a
painter and enrolled in an art school, which he never finished. He
travelled to Italy, Germany, France, even New York, from where he
returned to Paris. He never returned to Poland and died in Paris.
One of the forgotten poets, never
popular during his lifetime, some of his works weren’t even
published until well after his death. He died penniless and homeless
in Paris. A 100 years after his death he is considered one of
Poland’s greatest poets, even rock musicians write songs to his
lyrics.
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