Dear God, I have always liked strawberry jam
And the dark sweetness of a female body.
Also lce-cold vodka, herrings In olive-oil,
The smell of cinnamon and cloves.
What klnd of prophet am I? How could
The splrit have haunted me? So many others
Were chosen justly, the genulne ones.
And who would believe me? Because they saw
Me diving Into my food, draining goblets
And eyeing wlth greed the neck of the waitress.
I am Imperfect and aware of lt. I have a craving
for greatness, an ability to recognize it anywhere.
But I cant see it with complete clarity.
I know what remains for lesser men like me,
A feast of fleeting hopes, an assembly of proud men,
A tournament of hunchbacks, literature.
Przetłumaczone na język angielski przez:
Adam Dziadek (Polska)
Laura Hash (USA)
Fiona McHardy (Wielka Brytania)