Kuba.

Thirty years ago, for a while, I lived under the same roof with a parrot, a budgerigar. The parrot was a small, green and yellow bird, who seemed to be rather on the cheerful side. He was named Kuba. Closed in the cage, the bird clicked, chirped and whistled, and when Kuba was released from the cage, he flew around the room and, after some time passed, he would sit on the heads of those present in the room and let them hold him in their hands. Having him in hands, you could clearly feel his heart beating. One day, after a year or so of living together, Kuba made a risky attempt to get out of the cage through the gap between the sliding bottom and the lower part of the bars; he only managed to get his head out and then got stuck. Trying to get free, he choked and probably also broke his neck. I got him, but I was too late; I held Kuba in my hands and watched him, as they say, go out – his heart beating unevenly and ever more slowly, and his eyes went dull. After a short while, he died.


Gorilla is finished. It monkeyed around, charged, and finally, groaning, it died. Leśmian is mocking, perhaps as a warning. It is not clear what is that warning against or where is it coming from, and thank God. I’m reading the entire selection of poems for the cycle over and over again, and I'm getting more and more satisfied with it. Jarosław Marek Rymkiewicz loved Leśmian’s works. Rymkiewicz’s thoughts on classicism were very interesting.


As to the Tale, there is also considerable progress, although not yet on paper. I keep modifying - changing and slightly expanding the vocal cast and waiting for the final (?) approval of the Author as to the changes in the structure of the entire work. I can see this whole thing more and more clearly.

In Louisville I had a friend, a composition student in the same year, who was most greatly fascinated and deeply inspired by the person and work of George Crumb. That friend of mine invited me once on a trip to his hometown, somewhere in Arkansas, where Crumb was to hold a composition workshop. I hesitated for a long, while counting the funds in my account and the days until the end of the month. I the end, I decided not to go. My friend returned on cloud nine; but in the long term the experience did not transform him much, it seemed to me.

Interesting uproar over the Spotify service, regarding, somewhat, the dispute between the freedom of speech versus responsibility for words uttered. I would like to speak up, but I do not actually see a good reason.


(transl. Magdalena Małek-Andrzejowska)