A green lowland of pianos

in the evening

as far as the eye can see

herds

of black pianos

up to their knees

in the mire

they listen to the frogs

they gurgle in water

with chords of rapture

they are entranced

by froggish, moonish spontaneity

after the vacation

they cause scandals

in a concert hall

during the artistic milking

suddenly they lie down

like cows

looking with indifference

at the white flowers

of the audience

at the gesticulating

of the ushers

_Text - original Polish -_

_Jerzy Harsymowicz (1933-1999),_

_trans. Czesław Miłosz (1911-2004)_