Love poems and Polish Poetry
Love Poems for Her Collection: Poetry and romance go hand in hand. And its not only the romance of two people being in love, it is the romance of life itself. Polish poetry has for long been known for its myriad expressions on the emotion of love. Whether or not you have read any Polish poem in your life, these poems about the feeling of love will transport to you a different world. ‘Love poems for her‘, in this post, we cover seven timeless poems of Polish poets. These poems left a great impact on world literature and some of these went on to earn the coveted Nobel Prize as well.
Poland takes pride in producing a rich lineage of poets including the likes of Czesław Miłosz, Wisława Szymborska (both Nobel Prize winners), Zbigniew Herbert, Adam Mickiewicz, Tadeusz Rozewicz, Jan Kochanowski, Juliusz Słowacki, Zygmunt Krasiński and Cyprian Norwid. From nature, to mysticism to politics to life and eventually love, these poets have written masterpieces of polish poetry that very few poets in the world have ever done. Adam Mickiewicz, Juliusz Słowacki and Zygmunt Krasiński were considered as the ‘Three Bards of Polish Romantic Literature’. We could not help but include poems from these master poets in our collection of ‘Love Poems for Her’ in ‘Polish Poetry’.
Polish Romanticism: An era of love poems in Polish Poetry
The Poles have uniquely expressed their emotions using a variety of poetic tools. Some of the most classic uses of similes, Sapphic Stanza are found in Polish poetry. Widely known as the Polish romanticism, the era of literary, artistic and intellectual evolution in Poland, coincides with the first publication of Adam Mickiewicz’s poems. Mickiewicz would later go on to be included in the list of the bards of polish romantic literature. The world of poetry would not have been the same sans the contribution of literary geniuses produced by Poland.
In this post, we pay homage to some of the most renowned Polish Poets by curating the finest and most inspiring works of Polish Poetry in a collection titled ‘Love poems for her‘. If you like these poems, do not forget to share it with the person you love. ‘Love poems for her’ collection is an effort by Mukarrar to keep the spirit of poetry and love alive.
Uncertainty by Adam Mickiewicz: Love Poems for Her in Polish Poetry
When I don’t see you, I don’t sigh, I don’t cry,
I don’t loose my head, when I look at you,
However if I don’t see you for a long time,
I am missing something, someone I must see,
And longing, I’m asking myself a question:
Is it friendship? Or is it love?
When I loose your sight, I can’t even once,
Recreate your image in my mind,
However, despite my will I feel sometimes,
That it is always close to my thought,
And again I pose myself a question:
Is it friendship? Or is it love?
I suffered much, and I didn’t think at all
To go to you and express my sorrow;
Going without a purpose, not minding the road,
I will come to your doorstep without knowing how.
Entering, I ask myself a question:
What led me here? Friendship or love?
For your health, I would give my life
For your peace, I would descend to hell,
Though I lack the courageous will in my heart,
to be for you health and peace.
And again I pose myself a question:
Is it friendship? Or is it love?
When you lay your hand in my palms
I’m surrounded by calm,
It feels like this light dream could end my life
But a lively heartbeat keeps me awake;
Which loudly asks a question:
Is it friendship? So it is love?
Composing this song for you,
The spirit of the Poets didn’t inspire me;
Filled with surprise, I didn’t perceive myself,
Where did I get the thoughts from, how did I come across the rimes;
And I have finally written down this question:
What inspired me? Friendship or love?
The Romantic by Adam Mickiewicz: Love Poems for Her
‘Silly girl, listen!’
But she doesn’t listen
While the village roofs glisten,
Bright in the sun.
‘Silly girl, what do you do there,
As if there were someone to view there,
A face to gaze on and greet there,
A live form warmly to meet there,
When there is no one, none, do you hear?’
But she doesn’t hear.
Like a dead stone
She stands there alone,
Staring ahead of her, peering around
For something that has to be found
Till, suddenly spying it,
She touches it, clutches it,
Laughing and crying.
Is it you, my Johnny, my true love, my dear?
I knew you would never forget me,
Even in death! Come with me, let me
Show you the way now!
Hold your breath, though,
And tiptoe lest stepmother hear!
What can she hear? They have made him
A grave, two years ago laid him
Away with the dead.
Save me, Mother of God! I’m afraid.
But why? Why should I flee you now?
What do I dread?
Not Johnny! My Johnny won’t hurt me.
It is my Johnny! I see you now,
Your eyes, your white shirt.
But it’s pale as linen you are,
Cold as winter you are!
Let my lips take the cold from you,
Kiss the chill of the mould from you.
Dearest love, let me die with you,
In the deep earth lie with you,
For this world is dark and dreary,
I am lonely and weary!
Alone among the unkind ones
Who mock at my vision,
My tears their derision,
Seeing nothing, the blind ones!
Dear God! A cock is crowing,
Whitely glimmers the dawn.
Johnny! Where are you going?
Don’t leave me! I am forlorn!
So, caressing, talking aloud to her
Lover, she stumbles and falls,
And her cry of anguish calls
A pitying crowd to her.
‘Cross yourselves! It is, surely,
Her Johnny come back from the grave:
While he lived, he loved her entirely.
May God his soul now save!’
Hearing what they are saying,
I, too, start praying.
‘The girl is out of her senses!’
Shouts a man with a learned air,
‘My eye and my lenses
Know there’s nothing there.
Ghosts are a myth
Of ale-wife and blacksmith.
Clodhoppers! This is treason
Against King Reason!’
‘Yet the girl loves,’ I reply diffidently,
‘And the people believe reverently:
Faith and love are more discerning
Than lenses or learning.
You know the dead truths, not the living,
The world of things, not the world of loving.
Where does any miracle start?
Cold eye, look in your heart!’
Goodnight by Adam Mickiewicz’s: Love Poems for Her
All of Adam Mickiewicz’s poems deserve to be in the collection of finest love poems ever written in Polish Poetry. The sheer newness of form, the novelty of expressions, and the uniqueness of thoughts make him stand out from all poets who have ever written about romance. Love poetry, any volume, would be incomplete if it does not feature the works of Adam. Here’s another poem from Adam in our collection of Love Poetry for Her in Polish Poetry series.
Goodnight! No more merriment for us today,
May angels enfold you in blue wings of cheer,
Goodnight! May your eyes ease after bitter tears,
Goodnight! May your heart’s passion slumber away.
Goodnight! to moments of intimate replies,
May a charming and soothing music surround,
May it play in your ears, and whilst sleeping sound,
Let my image so delight your sleepy eyes.
Goodnight. Turn around! Place your gaze in my keep,
Permit a cheek-Goodnight!-For your butler you’ve clapped?
Give me your bosom to kiss-Goodnight-so strapped.
Goodnight. You have run off and you want no more.
Goodnight through the keyhole-sadly-a locked door!
Repeating ‘goodnight!’ I’d never let you sleep.
Love at First Sight by Wislawa Szymborska (Nobel Prize Winning Polish Poet)
They’re both convinced
that a sudden passion joined them.
Such certainty is beautiful,
but uncertainty is more beautiful still.
Since they’d never met before, they’re sure
that there’d been nothing between them.
But what’s the word from the streets, staircases, hallways—
perhaps they’ve passed by each other a million times?
I want to ask them
if they don’t remember—
a moment face to face
in some revolving door?
perhaps a “sorry” muttered in a crowd?
a curt “wrong number” caught in the receiver?—
but I know the answer.
No, they don’t remember.
They’d be amazed to hear
that Chance has been toying with them
now for years.
Not quite ready yet
to become their Destiny,
it pushed them close, drove them apart,
it barred their path,
stifling a laugh,
and then leaped aside.
There were signs and signals,
even if they couldn’t read them yet.
Perhaps three years ago
or just last Tuesday
a certain leaf fluttered
from one shoulder to another?
Something was dropped and then picked up.
Who knows, maybe the ball that vanished
into childhood’s thicket?
There were doorknobs and doorbells
where one touch had covered another
Suitcases checked and standing side by side.
One night, perhaps, the same dream,
grown hazy by morning.
is only a sequel, after all,
and the book of events
is always open halfway through.
Possibilities by Wislawa Szymborska (Nobel Prize Winning Polish Poet)
I prefer movies.
I prefer cats.
I prefer the oaks along the Warta.
I prefer Dickens to Dostoyevsky.
I prefer myself liking people
to myself loving mankind.
I prefer keeping a needle and thread on hand, just in case.
I prefer the color green.
I prefer not to maintain
that reason is to blame for everything.
I prefer exceptions.
I prefer to leave early.
I prefer talking to doctors about something else.
I prefer the old fine-lined illustrations.
I prefer the absurdity of writing poems
to the absurdity of not writing poems.
I prefer, where love’s concerned, nonspecific anniversaries
that can be celebrated every day.
I prefer moralists
who promise me nothing.
I prefer cunning kindness to the over-trustful kind.
I prefer the earth in civvies.
I prefer conquered to conquering countries.
I prefer having some reservations.
I prefer the hell of chaos to the hell of order.
I prefer Grimms’ fairy tales to the newspapers’ front pages.
I prefer leaves without flowers to flowers without leaves.
I prefer dogs with uncropped tails.
I prefer light eyes, since mine are dark.
I prefer desk drawers.
I prefer many things that I haven’t mentioned here
to many things I’ve also left unsaid.
I prefer zeroes on the loose
to those lined up behind a cipher.
I prefer the time of insects to the time of stars.
I prefer to knock on wood.
I prefer not to ask how much longer and when.
I prefer keeping in mind even the possibility
that existence has its own reason for being.
Love by Czeslaw Milosz (Nobel Prize Winning Polish Poet): Polish Poetry
Love means to learn to look at yourself
The way one looks at distant things
For you are only one thing among many.
And whoever sees that way heals his heart,
Without knowing it, from various ills—
A bird and a tree say to him: Friend.
Then he wants to use himself and things
So that they stand in the glow of ripeness.
It doesn’t matter whether he knows what he serves:
Who serves best doesn’t always understand.
I Would Like to Describe by Zbigniew Herbert: Love Poems for Her in Polish Poetry
I would like to describe the simplest emotion
joy or sadness
but not as others do
reaching for shafts of rain or sun
I would like to describe a light
which is being born in me
but I know it does not resemble
for it is not so bright
not so pure
and is uncertain
I would like to describe courage
without dragging behind me a dusty lion
and also anxiety
without shaking a glass full of water
to put it another way
I would give all metaphors
in return for one word
drawn out of my breast like a rib
for one word
contained within the boundaries
of my skin
but apparently this is not possible
and just to say—I love
I run around like mad
picking up handfuls of birds
and my tenderness
which after all is not made of water
asks the water for a face
different from fire
borrows from it
a loquacious tongue
so is blurred
so is blurred
what white-haired gentlemen
separated once and for all
this is the subject
and this is the object
we fall asleep
with one hand under our head
and with the other in a mound of planets
our feet abandon us
and taste the earth
with their tiny roots
which next morning
we tear out painfully
Love by Maria Pawlikowsk: Love Poems for Her
I haven’t seen you for a month or so.
No change. Perhaps I’m pale rather than fair,
sleepier, more silent. It shows
you can live without air.
Love poems for her is a collection of most intense Polish poetry on love by Polish poets. If you liked this post, you would definitely love the other Polish poems on Mukarrar. Read more Polish Poems here.