Nasza klasa [English translation]

Whatever happened to our class

Asks Adam in Tel Aviv

It’s hard to go on in times like these

It’s hard to live honorably at all

Whatever happened to our class?

Adalbert’s in Sweden, [works] at porno club

He writes: „they pay me well here

For what I like anyway

For what I like anyway”

Katie with Pete are in Canada

Because they have prospects there

Stan is doing ok in the [United] States

Paul got used to [living in] Paris

Maggie and Przemek can hardly make the ends meet

Their third child will be born in May

And in vain they complain in the [state] offices

That they’d also want to [emigrate] to the West

But Magdalen eis in Madrid

And she’ll marry a Spaniard soon

Mathias lost his life in December

When they were walking in [abandoned] apartments [looking for junk]

Janusz, who always made others envious

Because he was lucky in any circumstances

Is a surgeon and he heals people

But his brother hanged himself

Mark is in prison for refusal [of carrying out orders]

Because he didn’t shoot at Michael

And I’m writing down their story

And this is the entire class

There’s also Phil – a physicist in Moscow –

Today he receives different awards

He visits Poland whenever he wishes

And was received by the prime minister

I found the entire class

In exile, in the fatherland, in the grave

But something’s changed

Everyone’s concerned with his own life

I found the entire class

Grown up and adult

I scratched our youth [until it bleed]

But it didn’t hurt that much…

They’re not boys anymore, but men.

They’re not girls anymore, but women.

The youth will cicatrize soon

And it’s nobody’s fault

Everyone’s responsible

Everyone has goals in his life

Everyone is more or less normal

But it’s not much, though

I don’t know myself what I dream of

What star lights my way

When among these faces, which are not unfamiliar

I still search the faces of the children

Why I still sneak a peek over my shoulder

Although no one calls „hi, friend!”

[Saying] that he’ll play tag with me

Or at least hide-and-seek…

We grow our own sprouts, our own leaves

Everyone for himself

And the roots, of course

In exile, in the fatherland, in the grave

Down, sideways, up towards the Sun

Hastily and without thinking, to the right, to the left

And does anybody remember that, after all

It’s one and the same tree…

• Artist:Jacek Kaczmarski