Sad Man has forgotten who he is

After 12,5 hours at work, I thought that I cannot think…

But once  aproached movie like that,  something has awoken inside me, something   that was so long asleep:

Smutny Człowiek zapomniał kim jest

I watched, and I watched. And I have  decided that something needs to be done.

Such a Story demands a translation.

Mine, is bit clumsy .. . but still it might better than the one done by uncle Google…

“Sad man has forgotten who he is

I have already thought, that I knew,  I am a dust, I am flesh

chemical soup, collection of atoms, a mistake, a setback, natural selection

An impulse in brain, a circuit, an accident, I appear and vanish,

once I was not, once I will not be, such is the chaos tactic
with handful grip I draw from life, by being senses I suck what’s around
I steal, I kill, I cheat, play, drink, there is no hell

Don’t look at me like that, these are just selfish genes,  survival of the  fittest
pitiable fate of my victims is a component of their random existence

Am I a machine, without an operator, programmed by glass experts?

my fruit – ugly and bitter, I rush by an impulse seeking the purpose

I yearn, I desire, I want in instant and continuously, it itches me harder and longer dread  to think what comes later

in the matter of trap, seeking the fulfillment, like a fish with no water I try
still more, more and more I need, so little, little rejoice

I smile pretending that it is so fine, despite the fires around me
I believed that I’m smart and wise, a fool mourns to his mirror

The outcome – the reason like an atoms I split, under my pseudo scientific pretext
I was searching, i have been counting, got blind from the glasses,
cannot go more, without knowing who am I

Once there was a philosopher, who said, that there is no us, there is no you, there is no me, there is no no
It seems however a scam, because who would hear my singing

I can’t remember the secret, the eternal mystery, who pulls the strings?
I watch not see, I listen not hear, I am an actor, I do not remember the script

The sound drops inside, forces the neurons to move, to brain it rushes from ear
it’s curious, where does it go, whom am I the one who listens

How sad it is, that I that I strive forward not knowing where
how strange it is, that i wanted good but there is no no
how sad it is that still I do not know who am I no
Oh how strange it is that whom am I, I know not no”

Poem by Michał Napierzyński

End of Log

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