In preparation of Maja Trochimczyk's travel to Poland and sharing the poetry there at two readings, on 16 September 2024 at Dom Ksiegarza in Warsaw, and on 20 September 2024 at Sybir Museum in Bialystok, Moonrise Press issued a Polish translation and revision of 40 poems from The Rainy Bread of 2021; in two format, paperback and E-book in PDF Format (the latter available only on lulu.com).
Ebook. ISBN 978-1-945938-78-8, PDF, 68 pages, $10.00https://www.lulu.com/shop/maja-trochimczyk-and-maja-trochimczyk/deszczowy-chleb-wiersze-z-wygnania/ebook/product-e78y656.html?page=1&pageSize=4
Paperback. ISBN 978-1-945938-77-1, 68 pages, 40 poems, $20.00
https://www.lulu.com/shop/maja-trochimczyk-and-maja-trochimczyk/deszczowy-chleb-wiersze-z-wygnania/paperback/product-652gq9y.html?page=1&pageSize=4
ABOUT THIS BOOK
The book contains Polish translations of 40 poems from Maja Trochimczyk's volume of poetry, "The Rainy Bread: More Poems from Exile." Published in 2021 (first edition in 2016), the collection of 63 poems describes the tragic experiences of Poles during and after WWII, especially the author's family, originating from the country's eastern Borderlands (Baranowicze and the surrounding areas). Some poems capture the trauma, resilience, ordeals, and miraculous survival stories of the author’s immediate family. Their experiences of displacement, hunger, cold, and poverty during the war are typical of Polish civilians. They were killed, deported, imprisoned, or starved after the invasion of Poland by the Soviet Union on September 17, 1939.. They were deported to Siberia, the Arctic Circle, or Kazakhstan. Some left the Soviet Union with the Second Corps of the Polish Army under the command of General Władysław Anders. Others were transported to refugee camps in India or Africa; and ended up in Argentina, Canada, Australia or the U.S. The focus is not the tragedy itself, but the power of will, the resilience, and the strength of character that safeguarded their survival. The English-language book is an expanded edition of "The Rainy Bread: Poems from Exile" (30 poems, 2016) and a companion to "Slicing the Bread" (25 poems, 2014).
ABOUT THE POET
MAJA TROCHIMCZYK
Maja Trochimczyk, Ph.D., is a Polish-Canadian-American poet, music historian, photographer, and non-profit director born in Poland and living in California (www.trochimczyk.net). She published six collections of poems: Rose Always and Miriam’s Iris (Moonrise Press, 2008), Slicing the Bread (Finishing Line Press, 2014), The Rainy Bread, Into Light (Moonrise Press, 2016), and Bright Skies (Moonrise Press 2022). The revised and expanded version of The Rainy Bread. More Poems from Exile came out in 2021. She also edited five anthologies of poetry. Chopin with Cherries (2010) and Meditations on Divine Names (2012) offer “rich poetic material selected and collected with great sensitivity” (Prof. Grażyna Kozaczka, Polish Review, 2014). In 2018 Dr. Trochimczyk co-edited with Kathi Stafford an anthology of Westside Women Writers, Grateful Conversations, with work by nine female California poets, members of her writing group. In 2020, Dr. Trochimczyk co-edited with Marlene Hitt the tenth anniversary anthology for Village Poets of Sunland-Tujunga, celebrating the featured poets and organizers of their monthly readings series: We Are Here: Village Poets Anthology. In 2022, she edited an anthology of "positive poetry' with work by 12 poets, Crystal Fire. Poems of Joy and Wisdom.
Hundreds of Trochimczyk’s articles and poems appeared in English, Polish, as well as in German, French, Chinese, Spanish and Serbian translations. The venues for her poetry have included: The Loch Raven Review, Epiphany Magazine, Lily Review, Ekphrasis Journal, Quill and Parchment, Magnapoets, SGVGPQ, Pirene's Fountain, Cosmopolitan Review, The Scream Online, The Original Van Gogh’s Ear Anthology, Clockwise Cat, Lummox Journal, Phantom Seed, Colorado Boulevard, Spectrum, Poezja Dzisiaj, OccuPoetry, as well as many anthologies issued by Poets on Site, Silver Birch Press, Pisarze.pl, Bezkres and others.
As a music historian, Trochimczyk published eight books on music and Polish Culture: After Chopin: Essays on Music (2000), The Music of Louis Andriessen (2002), Polish Dance in Southern California (2007); A Romantic Century in Polish Music (2009); Frederic Chopin: A Research and Information Guide (co-authored with William Smialek, Routledge, 2015), Lutoslawski: Music and Legacy (co-authored with Stanislaw Latek, 2014); Gorecki in Context: Essays on Music (2017); and Album 50-lecia Klubu Kultury im. Heleny Modrzejewskiej (2021). She authored 27 book chapters for edited volumes on such topics as: Chopin (Indiana UP), Lutoslawski (Oxford UP), women composers, Polish music after 1945, emigres, ecomusicology, and more. She published English translation of two essays by Andrzej Wendland on Penderecki and Gorecki in 2020. For the 50th anniversary of Helena Modjeska Art and Culture Club in 2021, she co-edited a 380+ page Album 50-lecia Klubu Kultury im. Heleny Modrzejewskiej, with Elzbieta Kanski and Elzbieta Trybus. Dr. Trochimczyk also wrote 28 peer-reviewed articles in English and Polish for professional journals: Musical Quarterly, Computer Music Journal, Leonardo, Studia Chopinowskie, American Music, the Polish Review, and Muzyka. She presented papers at over 90 national and international conferences in Poland, France, Germany, Hungary, U.K., Canada, the U.S. and Australia.
The Sixth Poet Laureate of Sunland-Tujunga (2010-12), she currently serves as President of the California State Poetry Society, President of Helena Modjeska Art and Culture Club, and President of Moonrise Press. She taught music history at McGill University and at USC. Dr. Trochimczyk received awards and fellowships from ACLS, SSHRCC, USC, McGill University, MPE Fraternity, Polish American Historical Association (Swastek Prize, 2007, Distinguished Service Award, 2014 and Creative Arts Prize, 2016), City and County of Los Angeles, and Poland’s Ministry of Culture (Medal for the Promotion of Polish Culture, 2012). She was a member of various poetry groups, such as Westside Women Writers, Poets on Site, and Village Poets. In 1998-2009 she served as Scholarship Chair for Polish University Club of Los Angeles and in 2009-2020 as Secretary and Communications Director of the Polish American Historical Association.
SAMPLE POEMS IN POLISH AND ENGLISH
≡ PIEŚŃ O KLUCZU ≡
~ dla Tomasza Kuby Kozłowskiego i jego Mamy
To jest klucz.
To jest żelazny klucz.
To jest duży, żelazny klucz.
To stary, duży, żelazny klucz.
Klucz, który moja Mama nosiła w torebce.
To stary, duży, kuty klucz mojej Mamy.
Nosiła go codziennie w torebce.
To jest pole.
To jest płaskie pole.
To płaskie, puste pole.
To płaskie, puste pole na Ukrainie.
Tu była kiedyś Polska. Płaskie, puste pole
gdzie kiedyś stał dom mojej Mamy, otoczony
wysokim drewnianym płotem z wysoką drewnianą bramą,
z solidnym, dużym zamkiem z kutego żelaza.
Powiedzieli jej: pakuj się!
Powiedzieli jej: won stąd!
Powiedzieli jej: wynoś się!
To nasza ziemia.
Nie ma już domu.
Nie ma już płotu.
Nie ma już bramy.
To jest klucz.
≡ A SONG FOR A KEY ≡
~ for Tomasz Kuba Kozłowski and his Mother
This is a key.
This is an iron key.
This is a large, iron key.
This is an old, large, iron key.
A key my mother carried in her purse.
This is an old, large, wrought-iron key my mother
carried in her purse every single day.
This is a field.
This is a flat field.
This is a flat, empty field.
This is a flat, empty field in the Ukraine
that used to be Poland. A flat, empty field
where my mother’s house once stood, surrounded
by a tall wooden fence with a tall wooden gate,
and a solid, large, wrought-iron lock.
They told her: pack!
They told her: go!
They told her: out!
You do not belong.
This is our land.
There is not house.
There is no fence.
There is no gate.
This is the key.
≡ NAJSŁYNNIEJSZY GŁOS ≡
~ dla Hanki Ordonówny, gwiazdy z sercem (1902-1950)
Miłość Ci wszystko wybaczy. . .
Refren najsłynniejszej polskiej piosenki
odbija się echem w pamięci, gdy słucha
historii sierot wojennych – dzieci mówią
o ranach i wszach. Te wygłodzone szkielety
znajdują czas na zabawę. Proszą ją, by śpiewała.
Byla kiedyś Ordonką, w innej konstelacji,
na innej osi czasu, może innej planecie –
w samo jej istnienie trudno tu uwierzyć,
w pociągu z sierotami, w drodze na wygnanie,
do obozu w Indiach – w szorstkim mundurze
zamiast jedwabi, sznurów pereł i strusich piór.
Szampan dla największej gwiazdy! Bale i rewie
dla ukochanego głosu. Idealna miłość! Co za czar!
Znalazła schronienie w Bejrucie, w Paryżu Lewantu.
Nie było już Polski, nie było gdzie wracać.
Tam wjechały czołgi Stalina, zostały na 45 lat.
Nie miała ochoty na jedwabie, pióra, perły –
z sierotami przeżyła odyseję –
pojechała w świat, by stać się kimś innym –
te biedne zguby, polskie dzieci śmiały się
z zachwytem, gdy śpiewała dla nich...
Miłość ci wszystko wybaczy…
bo miłość, mój miły, to ja!
≡ THE GREATEST SONG ≡
~ for Hanka Ordonówna, a humanitarian star (1902-1950)
Miłość Ci wszystko wybaczy… Love will forgive you everything. . .
The refrain of Poland’s most famous song
echoes through her memory, as she listens
to the stories of war orphans – covered in
wounds and lice, starved to skeletons, yet
finding time to play. They asked her to sing.
Ordonka, she used to be in another life,
on a different timeline, another planet, perhaps –
its very existence impossible to believe in, here
on the train with orphans, on the way to a refugee
camp in India – in a coarse military uniform instead
of silks, pearl strings, shawls, and ostrich feathers.
Champagne for the greatest star! Balls and revues
for the beloved singer of perfect Love! Such charm!
She found refuge in Beirut, her final stop, Paris
of the Levant. There was no Poland to return to, after
Stalin’s tanks rolled in to stay for 45 years. She did not
make it. She did not feel like wearing silks, feathers,
pearls – after the orphans that survived their odyssey
went somewhere else to become someone else – not
her lost Polish children, smiling with delight as she sang.
Miłość ci wszystko wybaczy… bo miłość, moj miły, to ja!
Love will forgive you everything. . . for Love, my dear, I’m Love!
≡ SZAMBALA ≡
Czy dzieci, które zmarły po drodze na Syberię
dostaną ozdobione klejnotami parasole
w tybetańskim niebie? Czy Syberia jest za daleko od Szambali,
by znękane sieroty mogły wejść w jej złote bramy,
lśniące tysiącami ozdób, skarbami z galaktyk,
dziesięcioma miliardami słońc? Czy były zbyt chore i brudne,
aby pójść po błyszczącej ścieżce, cudzie dla Buddy —
po drodze pachnącej olejkiem sandałowym, ozdobionej
nieprzeliczonym mnóstwem najpiękniejszych drzew,
co zakwitły kryształem, roziskrzyły się biżuterią z nieba.
Podobno, gdy narodził się Budda, Ziemia poruszyła się
i zatrzęsła aż sześć razy. Tak powiedział mędrzec.
Czy Ziemia poruszy się chociaż raz na cześć
polskich dzieci? Tych, co zwijały się z bólu i jęczały
aż do błogosławionej ulgi odejścia? Tych, co oddały
swój ostatni oddech jak kryształowy znak zapytania
w zamarzniętym powietrzu Syberii? Czy tych
w konwulsjach po nagłej serii strzałów,
kuli prosto w serce? Czy tych, co zamarzły na śmierć
w konwoju? Zemdlały na podłodze wagonu?
Mówią, że sowy zamilkły, kiedy urodził się
wielki Budda Siakjamuni. Słodko brzmiąca muzyka
popłynęła przez niezliczone kwitnące sady,
najszlachetniejszy blask tęczowych drzew.
Czy obolałe, chore dzieci usłyszały pohukiwanie
sowy, kiedy zmarły? Och, głodne dzieci gułagów,
zagubione dzieci Syberii – czy poruszyła się Ziemia?
Czy czekały na was klejnoty wśród niebiańskich
parasoli, czy tylko szare i okrutne sowy?
≡ SHAMBHALA ≡
Do children who die on the way
carry bejeweled parasols in a Tibetan heaven?
Is Siberia too far from Shambhala
for the bedraggled orphans to enter through
its golden doorways, glistening with ten thousand
ornaments, treasures from a galaxy with ten billion suns?
Are they too sick and dirty to walk on a shining path
made for the birth of the Buddha — scented
with sandalwood, adorned with an unsurpassed
multitude of rarest gems.
When the Buddha was born, the Earth
moved six ways, the wise man said.
Did it move at least once to mark your passage?
When you rolled in pain and moaned
until the blessed moment of relief?
Gave up your last breath like a crystal question mark
in a frozen Siberian air? Convulsed
in a sudden burst of gunfire, a bullet straight
through your heart? Froze to death in a convoy?
Fainted on the floor of a railroad car?
There was no hooting of owls, they say,
when the great Shakyamuni Buddha
was born. Sweet sounding music floated
through a myriad of flowering orchards,
filled with a rainbow of gemstone trees.
Did you hear an owl hoot when you died?
Oh, hungry child of gulags, the lost child
of Siberia — Did the Earth move?
Were there parasols, or owls?
.JPG)
