Translation:Baltic to Tatras, sonnets / I. The Sigh of the Baltic

When sad like a homesickness, volatile like a dreams From amber coasts winds will fly to you And will crash with a groan of rocky Tatras Will you recognize in them our sighs for you?

When somewhere from the dark spruce a little bird chirp Let in his complaint our homesickness will come to you: When the streams three-days' drizzly weather floods you You know that it's for you shed our tears!

To us: or sandy whirlwind the gale sweeping into eyes Or the sky clouding with ill-omened cloud Or balsamic smell from meadows blows flowers towards us   Or storm down to the bottom of bottomlesses stop [...] by the sea:

All reminds us; all, that on the world The first of the men was Adam – the first of the flowers [was] Rose.