Poet's Corner
Konstanty Ildefons Ga³czyński (1905-1953)
4 January 1998

Konstanty Ildefons Ga³czyński's life and poetry have left a special mark on Polish contemporary literature. Ga³czyński was a poet of great vivacity and insight who also lived his short life to the very fullest. He was born in Warsaw into a working-class family, but a poet he was born to be. He began writing poetry at the tender age of 10. He was evacuated to Moscow for the duration of World War I. He later returned and studied English and classics at Warsaw University. He did his military service in 1926-1928 and in 1930 married Natalia Awalow, who would become the exotic heroine of his poetry. Their marriage was close and enduring.

Ga³czyński published his first book of poetry in 1929, but it was during the 1920s that Ga³czyński threw himself headlong into literary pursuits. He soon distanced himself from early associations with the Skamander movement and developed his own unique poetry, varying from the grotesque to the personal lyric. In the late 1930s Ga³czyński wrote for the controversial literary journal Prosto z Mostu (Off the Cuff).

Ga³czyński took part in the fight against the 1939 Nazi onslaught but was captured in the first month of the war. He served out the war in various German prisoner-of-war camps. After the war Ga³czyński traveled for a time in Europe. When he returned to Poland he settled and worked in Cracow for two years writing for literary journals Tygodnik Powszechny and Przekrój, but it was in Warsaw that Ga³czyński spent his final years. He died in 1953 and was buried at the Military Cemetery in Warsaw's Pow±zki neighborhood. Of Ga³czyński's numerous poetic collections, he is perhaps most fondly remembered for his miniature grotesque satirical pieces from Cracow called Zielone Gźsi (Green Geese).

Today's poem needs little explanation. It is one of the many famous poems by Ga³czyński about a black period in his life. The poet's absolute love for, and faith in, his wife Natalia are as much the bedrock of this poem as is the hopeful and listless mind of the poet.


Letter From a POW


My dearest, my heart-call,
Goodnight my love-you are tired,
I see your shadow on the wall.
The night is so Spring inspired.


You are my all in this world,
How to make famous your name?
You're my water in Summer,
My gloves in Winter's bane.


You are my good fortune, Vernal
Summery, Wintry and Autumnal.
So call to me goodnight,
Whisper it through your sleepy mouth.


But what is the payment for this sight,
The blissful paradise by your side.
In my world you are the light,
The songs of my road that will guide.


Introduction and translation by Barry Keane


Reproduced with
permission from
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