D Oday passed the sixth anniversary of the death of someone I love very much.
this occasion to remind here one of the poems of this great man.
POLISH FOR PINE
Where Vineyards , where the sweet oranges grow, you
my house simpleton, pine
stamps from his mother and sisters separated Stuck
family orphan among someone else's garden.
how nice you are a visitor here to my eye,
Because we both are experiencing one above, I am also
pilgrimage was far away, I
me in a foreign land life time is running out.
Why did you, though you have surrounded the efforts of others,
not developed for growth, has lost power?
Here's a before and sun, and dew spring, and yet your
twigs pale angle.
Vienna.
sad withering among thriving plane
And there is no life for you, because there is no homeland. Tree
true!
not endure the exile, longing
little more autumn and winter rains
A drop dead!
alien land you funeral.
my tree. Will I be happier
from you?
Karol Wojtyla-Pope John Paul II
So much love Tatry
photo of the Holy Father comes from the network.
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