Hues

Here is purple – a tree’s shadow walking the gravel path,
the purple linking the red and the sapphire in love. –
There – the pinkish bark and the joyous green of birches,
and in the flitting dress of the green – the skies’ blue circles.
But within me the white, white, white dwells monotonously –
because in me I carry the hues’ focused mystery. –
Within the white of my whiteness oh how I suffer so –
I want to be a hue – who will smash me into rainbow?

Maria Pawlikowska – Jasnorzewska
Translated by Marek Lugowski

 

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