For [My] Diary[1]
To
love! Oh, I will love forever
No
one listens to my changes
[My]
heart has been wounded forever
[My]
heart has been wounded forever
The wounds of the heart cannot be
healed
No one finds a way to cure [me]
Death is perhaps the only help for
me
I will carry the memory of you to
the grave
Oh,
you! You will be at a distance from me
Perhaps
you will not remember poor[2]
[me]
Perhaps
you will not remember even [my] name
Who
is[3]
fading so prematurely over you
Our souls grow wines
When the nightingale returns in
spring
When it sends prayers to God from the grove
Oh! That’s as blissful as in paradise
But
with that most sweet harmony
They
create our melody
When
we praise God
[And]
love him with all [our] soul[4]
[1] Grammatical gender in Polish allows an adjective or
past participle form to identify the party speaking or referred to as male or
female. The author of the poem titled “For My Diary” refers to herself with a
grammatically feminine adjective and is presumably female.
[2] Female form
[3] Female form
[4] The handwriting on this page appears to be slightly
different from that of the preceding and following pages.

Diary knows all.
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