{"id":18212,"date":"2022-12-04T20:00:38","date_gmt":"2022-12-05T02:00:38","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/wp0.vanderbilt.edu\/nashvillereview\/?p=18212"},"modified":"2022-12-04T18:59:32","modified_gmt":"2022-12-05T00:59:32","slug":"erotyk","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/wp0.vanderbilt.edu\/nashvillereview\/archives\/18212","title":{"rendered":"Erotyk"},"content":{"rendered":"<p style=\"text-align: center\"><em>A poem by Krzysztof Kamil Baczy\u0144ski and translated from Polish by Christopher Patkowski<\/em><\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>In the brook of your hair, in the river of lips,<br \/>\nold woods like an evening \u2013 dark,<br \/>\nuseless crying, doomed splash.<\/p>\n<p>Yet in the dusk I will enfold, with a rose of night,<br \/>\nand the world will pass by with a twig, a shred or a gesture,<br \/>\nand then without a sound will stumble.<br \/>\nA trail will go over the eyes<br \/>\nand I will say \u2013 I am.<\/p>\n<p>Yet, in carrying you, reflected in pupils<br \/>\nor on eyelashes hanging like a tear,<br \/>\nI will hear in you chiseled silver by dolphins,<br \/>\nin the shell of your body humming with sleep.<\/p>\n<p>Or in the grove, where you are a birch, with white air<br \/>\nand milk of a day,<br \/>\na merciless being,<br \/>\nlifting thousand of centuries.<br \/>\nI will stream<br \/>\nwith a murmur of a grove of young trees.<br \/>\nIn your branches \u2013 a bird.<\/p>\n<p>One day \u2013 for longing \u2013 a century,<br \/>\none gesture \u2013 and already a march of hurricanes,<br \/>\none step \u2013 and you are \u2013 a ghost waiting, in ashes.<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: right\">To my dearest Basia \u2013 Krzysztof<br \/>\nII.2. \u201842<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<h6><a href=\"https:\/\/wp0.vanderbilt.edu\/nashvillereview\/?p=18159\"> Krzysztof Kamil Baczy\u0144ski &amp; Christopher Patkowski<\/a><\/h6>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>A poem by Krzysztof Kamil Baczy\u0144ski and translated from Polish by Christopher Patkowski &nbsp; In the brook of your hair, in the river of lips, old woods like an evening \u2013 dark, useless crying, doomed splash. Yet in the dusk I will enfold, with a rose of night, and the world will pass by with [&hellip;]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2272,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"spay_email":"","jetpack_publicize_message":"","jetpack_is_tweetstorm":false},"categories":[75],"tags":[36],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/s6Jypy-erotyk","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/wp0.vanderbilt.edu\/nashvillereview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/18212"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/wp0.vanderbilt.edu\/nashvillereview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/wp0.vanderbilt.edu\/nashvillereview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/wp0.vanderbilt.edu\/nashvillereview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/2272"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/wp0.vanderbilt.edu\/nashvillereview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=18212"}],"version-history":[{"count":3,"href":"https:\/\/wp0.vanderbilt.edu\/nashvillereview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/18212\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":18257,"href":"https:\/\/wp0.vanderbilt.edu\/nashvillereview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/18212\/revisions\/18257"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/wp0.vanderbilt.edu\/nashvillereview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=18212"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/wp0.vanderbilt.edu\/nashvillereview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=18212"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/wp0.vanderbilt.edu\/nashvillereview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=18212"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}