Translated poem: "The Luxembourg Gardens" by Adam Zagajewski

The Luxembourg Gardens

A translator, Phil

Parisian apartments defy wind or imagination—

They are solid paperweights,

p>

It is the opposite of dreams.

The white boat was speeding on the river, loaded with people

Attracting cheers from people near the river bank;

They sold out the past time in joy.

A pair of rich people came out of a taxi.

They were dressed in shining clothes; the waiter dressed them

in clothes with timeless tailoring styles.

But the Luxembourg Gardens are now empty,

they have become a vast, lifeless herbarium;

they do not remember walking in the park

People on the avenue did not notice the passing of these people.

Mickiewicz lived here, there

Augusta Strindberg searched for the Philosopher's Stone

He never found it .

Dusk falls. Waking night approaches from the east,

silent and confused.

Nights from Asia, no questions asked.

Strange splendor, cold joy.

Yellow light illuminates the windows over the Seine

(There lies the real mystery: the lives of others).

I know — this city keeps no more secrets.

But there are plane trees, squares, cafes, friendly streets,

and the bright gaze of the darkening clouds.

Translation: philosopher's stone: Philosopher's stone, a substance used in legendary alchemy to turn ordinary metals into gold nuggets. Many people translate it as "philosophical stone". They don't understand the origin and the translation is too blunt.

This poem translation refers to other English translations, as follows:

OGR?DLUKSEMBURSKI

Paryskiekamienicenieboj?si?aniwiatruaniwyobra?ni

–tos?solidneprzyciskidopapierów,

przeciwieństwomarzenia...

Narzece?cigaj?si?bia?estatkiwype?nionet?umem,

którydomagasi?pozdrowieńodtych, costoj ?nabrzegu;

t?umjestwszampańskimnastrojuilikwidujeprzesz?o?.

Ztaksówkiwychodziparazamo?nychturystów

wb?yszcz?cychstrojach;czekaj?nanichkelnerzy

wsurdutach, którychkszta?tuniezmieniamoda.

Zato Ogród Luksemburskiwyludniasi?teraz

izamieniawgigantyczny, cichyzielnik; ,?eju?nie?yj?.

Tumieszka?Mickiewicz, atamAugust Strindberg

pracowa?nadkamieniemfilozoficznym,

któregonieznalaz?.

Zapadazmierzch . . si?ó?te?wiat?awoknachnadSekwan?

(otoco?naprawd?zagadkowego:?ycieinnychludzi).

Jawiem–wtymmie?cieniemaju?tajemnicy.

Ales?platany, placeikawiarnie, przyjazneulice

ijasnespojrzenieob?oków, którewolnoga?nie.

LUXEMBOURGGARDEN

Parisianapartmenthousesfearneitherwindnorimagination

–they'reponderouspaperweights,

thea

ntithesesofdreams.

Whiteboatsracealongtheriver, filledwithcrowds

demandinggreetingsfromthosewhostandonshore;

theireffervescenceliquidatesthepast.

Apairofwealthytouristsemergesfromacab

ingleaminggarb; they'reservedbywaiters

wearingfrockcoatsthatfashioncannotchange.

ButtheLuxembourgGardengrowsemptynow

andbecomesagiant, muteherbarium;

it'sforgottenallthosewhoonce

strolleditspathsandhaven'tnoticedthey'renolongerliving .

Mickiewiczlivedhere,andthereAugustStrindberg

laboredoverthephilosopher'sstone

neverfound.

Duskfalls.Solemnnight,taciturnandworried,

arrivesfromtheeast.

ThenightcomesfromAsiaanddoesn'taskquestions.

Foreignnessislovely,acoldjoy.

YellowlightsilluminatethewindowsontheSeine

(somethingtrulyenigmatic: otherpeople'slives).

Iknow–there's economy here now.

But there are planetes, squares, cafés, friendly streets,

and the bright gaze of clouds that slowlydies.