5,079
edits
Changes
Created page with "{{Cytat | <poem>Farewell, o Poland! Adieu, lifeless plain, Where frost, ice and snows forever obtain. Your climes, your customs made my stomach churn; Goodbye, I’m lea..."
{{Cytat
| <poem>Farewell, o Poland! Adieu, lifeless plain,
Where frost, ice and snows forever obtain.
Your climes, your customs made my stomach churn;
Goodbye, I’m leaving – never to return! {{...}}
Barbaric people, arrogant and vain,
Believing yourselves to match Mars in fame,
All day and night you sit around and drink,
Snore at the table and beneath it sink.
</poem>
| oryg = <poem>Adieu, Pologne, adieu, plaines désertes,
Toujours de neige et de glace couvertes,
Adieu, pays d’un éternel adieu :
Ton air, tes mœurs m’ont si fort su déplaire,
Qu’il faudra bien que tout me soit contraire,
Si jamais plus je retourne en ce lieu. {{...}}
Barbare peuple, arrogant et volage
Vanteur, causeur n’ayant rien que langage,
Qui, jour et nuit, dans un poisle enfermé,
Pour tout plaisir se joue avec un verre,
Ronfle à la table ou s’endort sur la terre,
Puis comme un Mars veut être renommé. {{...}}
</poem>
| źródło = {{Cyt
| nazwisko =
| imię =
| tytuł = ?
| nazwisko r = Desportes
| imię r = Philippe
| rozdział = Adieu à la Pologne
| adres rozdziału =
| wydawca =
| miejsce =
| rok =
| strony =
}}, own translation }}
{{Cytat
| <poem>Stop, o Frenchmen! Hold your horses! What’s the reason for your flight?
Only tyrants run from Poland like a dog annoyed by flies. {{...}}
We applauded your arrival, played the gittern and drank wine,
Did our best that you feel welcome: all you ever did was whine,
Call us drunks and take our earnest hospitality for vice.
You ungrateful, savage aliens! We are tired of being nice.</poem>
| oryg = <poem>State, viri, quae causa fugae? {{...}}
Sarmatia est, quam Galle fugis, fidissima tellus
Hospitibus; fastus tantum impatiensque tyranni
Sarmatia est, cui verba prius, nunc terga dedisti
Continuasque fugam, quasi musca agitere canina. {{...}}
Atque ego, Galle, quidem fateor, neque forsitan ipse
Inficias ibis, vos summo hominumque deorumque
Applausu exceptos, passimque agitata per urbes
Adventu vestro convivia, nec puduisse
Sauromatam pictis redimitum tempora sertis
Ad citharam saltare rudem, Bacchoque madere,
Quippe ut Galle fidem faceret tibi simplicis atque
Non fucati animi, quo confidentius et tu
Laetum ageres convivam, epulis acceptus amicis.
Tu vero ingratus fugitivus, barbarus, hospes
Officium in vitium trabis et temeto conspergis
Non tantum me, sed proprios etiam ebrie versus.</poem>
| źródło = {{Cyt
| tytuł = ?
| nazwisko r = Kochanowski
| imię r = Jan
| rozdział = Gallo crocitanti ἀμοιβή
| adres rozdziału =
| strony =
}}, own translation }}
| <poem>Farewell, o Poland! Adieu, lifeless plain,
Where frost, ice and snows forever obtain.
Your climes, your customs made my stomach churn;
Goodbye, I’m leaving – never to return! {{...}}
Barbaric people, arrogant and vain,
Believing yourselves to match Mars in fame,
All day and night you sit around and drink,
Snore at the table and beneath it sink.
</poem>
| oryg = <poem>Adieu, Pologne, adieu, plaines désertes,
Toujours de neige et de glace couvertes,
Adieu, pays d’un éternel adieu :
Ton air, tes mœurs m’ont si fort su déplaire,
Qu’il faudra bien que tout me soit contraire,
Si jamais plus je retourne en ce lieu. {{...}}
Barbare peuple, arrogant et volage
Vanteur, causeur n’ayant rien que langage,
Qui, jour et nuit, dans un poisle enfermé,
Pour tout plaisir se joue avec un verre,
Ronfle à la table ou s’endort sur la terre,
Puis comme un Mars veut être renommé. {{...}}
</poem>
| źródło = {{Cyt
| nazwisko =
| imię =
| tytuł = ?
| nazwisko r = Desportes
| imię r = Philippe
| rozdział = Adieu à la Pologne
| adres rozdziału =
| wydawca =
| miejsce =
| rok =
| strony =
}}, own translation }}
{{Cytat
| <poem>Stop, o Frenchmen! Hold your horses! What’s the reason for your flight?
Only tyrants run from Poland like a dog annoyed by flies. {{...}}
We applauded your arrival, played the gittern and drank wine,
Did our best that you feel welcome: all you ever did was whine,
Call us drunks and take our earnest hospitality for vice.
You ungrateful, savage aliens! We are tired of being nice.</poem>
| oryg = <poem>State, viri, quae causa fugae? {{...}}
Sarmatia est, quam Galle fugis, fidissima tellus
Hospitibus; fastus tantum impatiensque tyranni
Sarmatia est, cui verba prius, nunc terga dedisti
Continuasque fugam, quasi musca agitere canina. {{...}}
Atque ego, Galle, quidem fateor, neque forsitan ipse
Inficias ibis, vos summo hominumque deorumque
Applausu exceptos, passimque agitata per urbes
Adventu vestro convivia, nec puduisse
Sauromatam pictis redimitum tempora sertis
Ad citharam saltare rudem, Bacchoque madere,
Quippe ut Galle fidem faceret tibi simplicis atque
Non fucati animi, quo confidentius et tu
Laetum ageres convivam, epulis acceptus amicis.
Tu vero ingratus fugitivus, barbarus, hospes
Officium in vitium trabis et temeto conspergis
Non tantum me, sed proprios etiam ebrie versus.</poem>
| źródło = {{Cyt
| tytuł = ?
| nazwisko r = Kochanowski
| imię r = Jan
| rozdział = Gallo crocitanti ἀμοιβή
| adres rozdziału =
| strony =
}}, own translation }}