only storms still fly solo
maybe clouds stars and poems too
no-one has yet regulated a storm
she flies out of the sky, seeks out, sorts through
wonders just one moment more
then once
she’s decided
when the storm
chooses
a victim and decides
who will be burned and who changed
into a fireball
(just like a poem
before it decides
before the fingers agree
with the poem
about that tangle of letters
what to throw out and what will be
a stanza)
then it happens that thing we are scared of
what it is that so stimulates us so fascinates us
then a cloud joins with the imagination
then hot rain falls on the sheet of paper
then the poems set fire to forests and houses
Translation from Polish by Sarah Luczaj
III Prize at the XXIV edition of Rafał Wojaczek Poetry Award 2016 (Poland)