The Polish girl who trotted by
was hurrying with style, her anxiety
was muffled by the quietness of her short steps
tapping the cobblestones of Garbary.
Why do you rush fair lady?
Are you late for your date with the tram?
Or is it the gladness of summertime
that makes you hop out of happiness?
Speed up a little, I’ll watch you from here,
I’ll see you become a shooting star
streaking across Stary Rynek
to finally alight in some Rondo or Plac.
