Le Tombeau de Krasicki
Boleslaw Prus

Every night Venus shines down on this hillock
and caresses the flowers
which the singing bishop loved,
the translator of Lucian of Samosata;

A nearby berry bush delights the sparrows,
in the bush are white clouds
which say: "He brought down ridicule on our country
as Yeus pelted Danae with golden rain;

but death crept into his mirthful eyes
which were as green as this tomb,
but never mind, he didn't fully die; that very night
pleasantly plump Venus lit her

lamp above him. With its rays
she silvers his grave for ever and ever.
But there are shadows: the ghosts of
offended monks shake their fists at him."

-translated by Walter Whipple