My good and noble health,
Thou matter’st more then wealth.
None know’th thy worth until
Thou fad’st, and we fall ill.
And every man can see,
In stark reality,
And every man will say:
“’Tis health I need today”.
No better thing we know,
No dearer gem we owe,
For all that we possess:
Pearls, stones of great finesse,
High offices and power
– One may enjoy this hour –
And so the gifts of youth,
And beauty are, in truth,
Good things, but only when
Our health is with us then.
For when the body’s weak,
The world around is bleak.
O jewel dear, my home
Awaiteth thee to come;
With thee it shall not perish.
’Tis all for thee to cherish.
Jan Kochanowski (1530 - 1584) Poland
Translated by Jarek Zawadzki
Source: Selected Masterpieces of Polish Poetry translated from the Polish by Jarek Zawadzki, BookSurge Publishing, 2007
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