Polish Flowers

Poem by Julian Tuwim
A box with paints from childhood's time:
The colors of town are earth and grime.
An old worker at a dark doorway squats,
The spuds in his bowl are powdery dry.
It's a face of yellowish and gray spots
In the midst of hunger, cold, dirt and slime.

Translated by Frank Fox
(Contributed by daniel on Friday, April 8th, 2011)
 
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