Trafika Europe 2 - Polish Nocturne
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105

VII. Drunken sonnet

Rather it is passion which follows me down;

true, I didn’t frolic, for I was drunk and dizzy,

the pint’s handle propped me night and morn,

then the horizon darkened before me

& I would have set out, Ulysses to Ithaca,

if I didn’t fear my tired legs at night

would give out under me: at last I crawl away…

hating: what a horrid stinking glop slumps along?

Sloth: are you human? I don’t ask anymore

if it’s an animal, this almost-human sin!

As if it’s just snowed, that’s how that night fell;

I tripped, and a bush set on me. Thus I live:

harsh winter pervades even the autumn in me.