Wiersz wigilijny from Kryzys by Hańba!

Christmas Eve’s Poem
by Edward Szymański

If you were born today
In an ordinary, not some sacred way
You would be someone's child in Lodz
On the fourth floor of basement

Instead of shepherd's flutes
– sirens’ wail
Frankincense, gold and myrrh
– night in dirt and dust
The days are always the same
It's not quieter or brighter
When someone is born
Or when one perishes

No king would come
– nor western or eastern
Useless prophecies and stars
– for tired and hungry
Nobody would herald your coming
No advertisement in the press
In a narrow street of life
You'd be gone like a pebble

A merry day, the lord is born

translated by Mateusz Nowicki

• Punk
• brass punk
• folk punk
• folkcore
• klezmer influenced
• Kraków