Pilot and Girl by Danuska Blaszek

 Danuska Blaszek

Danuska Blaszek is a Polish poet who lives in the United States and Poland. Her poetry has appeared in numerous books and anthologies. Her English books Lily Equation and Mathematics vs. Poetry are both available on Amazon along with her Polish books.

Pilot and Girl

I asked Danuska Blaszek what inspired her to write the following poem. Here's what she said:

The series of poems "Pilot & Girl" was inspired by the group paralotnie.pl. I participated in one of the first paragliding courses in the 90s. Our emotional commitment was great. We were overwhelmed by the freedom to fly without medical tests, no fitness requirements, no age limits.

Krysiek Kaczynski -- my instructor, Rafal Maszczak -- the organizer of our internet meetings and Rysiek Lutoslawski, although I had never seen him on a paraglider, was our guru.  Older than us, he about flying on Migs, about clouds ... Some phrases come from him and a story about a night flight in an autumn drizzle ... This is connected with the story of Marta Berowska, about her mother's friend who killed himself on a glider.  But after reading the poems, Rysiek asked how I know that he had an accident ...

pilot and girl

I

you know Richard

I sometimes stand on the balcony

among white sheets smelling of soap

the sky beckons

and I don't know which to choose

wings or sails

the foam of clouds or the wave of lakes

I fear the allure of space

the magnetism of the sky

 

you know Danuska I've never been afraid of space, 

though only fools are free from fear, they say

only once that uncontrollable fright

a night flight in a November drizzle

over a thick layer of clouds

smooth as a mirror

outer space, my love, without God or Earth

the stars down there and the sharp scream of the Moon

the sky below and above

I followed the instruments

they helped me survive

later, an old pilot told me

it so happens sometimes that the sky is reflected in the smooth surface of the clouds

as in a mirror

 

we've only written to each other

we've never met

I fear our meeting

my frightened eyes look back at me from the mirror

II.

you ask me Danuska why I smoke a hundred cigarettes a day

this is how it started

 

I was a child

they killed the Warsaw uprising and my sister and I

were separated from our parents in the Pruszkow camp

a kind soul took us away on a wagon filled with dead bodies

my sister and I ran as fast as we could

she was little, I not much older than her

we fell asleep cuddled

in a cargo car on a dead-end railroad in the woods

we woke up locked inside

listening to the heavy breathing of the train

trapped with no food or water

we were saved by bombs

we escaped through a hole in the roof

the locomotive breathed heavily in the ditch

 

I tried to earn money to buy food

a field cook found me

old Wasilenko fed me

I felt guilty

my sister died of starvation

the cook rolled my first cigarette

 

later in a flat taken over from a German

I played with a toy car

the cook along with other Bolsheviks died in the war

I learned how to smoke

III.

cumulus clouds, soft as the fleece of a lamb

haven't you ever wanted to stroke them?

to taste them as you would taste cotton candy?

and lie on them like on a duvet?

tell me, why do birds avoid clouds?

 

Danuska clouds can be dangerous

I'll tell you about it

It was sunny

cumulus clouds were resting in the sky

I was spinning up towards the sun up, up and up

higher and higher

suddenly I entered a cloud

it started swelling

it was sucking me up into the sky

I didn't want to go there

I didn't take oxygen

a cumulomnibus was born and inside it as in another world

hurricanes from the earth to the sky

I was carried by tornadoes

aerial frenzy of winds

I heard a sound

a wing broke away from the glider

 

I jumped out

I couldn't open the parachute

(don't do it inside a cloud,

the cloud will catch it like an umbrella and won't let you go down to the ground)

I was waiting until my eyes could see

something other than the graying milk of the cloud

the fear grew

does this cloud, like fog, reach the ground?

the fuselage of my glider went past me

I survived

I saw grass, trees

the orange canopy of my parachute bloomed above me

the sky was black now

 

tell me unknown pilot

you're not like cotton candy

I have to be careful like those birds

 

IV 

I quit smoking

I don't want to think about it

I'm painting my room

you're saying Menet has died

one more friend gone

he still lives in my heart

 

we used to fly together

the charming times of pilots hooligans

we were flying over bridges and lakes

we were flying so low that the gust created by the propeller

overturned sailboats

we found that bridge in Liwiec

you know that little palace in Liwa

 

it was easy to escape the militia there

Menet was doing aerobatics

I managed to fly under that small bridge upside down

then Menet took our friend over Liwiec

he was a young lad but quite brash

 

later that youngster wanted to fly under the bridge by himself

he split up the two banks of the river

wrecked the plane

a major uproar

 

there were lots of flowers on his grave

and Menet and I were making new plans

fate separated us

 

you're asking what I'm doing

I'm painting my apartment

the walls have yellowed from the smoke

IV

warm and caring

as if straight from my dreams

not a stranger anymore

but not familiar yet

you run into the sky

right under the cumulus clouds

and say from there

I'll come back or I won't

so I call into the cloudy night

should I only be a girl

from swirling outer space?

 

I was flying a Mig

guided by orders into a cloud

the weather was nice

too nice to die

 

the cloud looked menacing

I radioed the tower 

 

the artificial horizon was turning madly

I wasn't flying the plane

the wind was

it blew out the fire of the engine

fear once, fear twice

if I survive the third wave of fear

you'll be mine

I'll give you

the twisted skin of the plane

the pieces of the wings

the dislocated rivets

 

I put on my armour

I built a fortress around my heart

translated by Anna Sledziewska-Bolinska