I'm ill (some stomach flu...) so I don't feel fit for any big celebrations, but let me honor the Imbolc with some poetry reading
(found here via this blog).
This is the poem by one of the greatest Polish poets who lived at the first half of the XX c., my favourite Konstanty Ildefons Gałczyński.
It is a poem about a sparrow, which is a very small bird but eats the ugly centipede, and nobody supports him, and the poet calls out to the readers that the sparrow is our sincere friend and we should love him, God dammed!
(it's not me, it's the poet's words! *^v^*)
Sparrows always remind me of warm Spring days.
Okay, I'm not a poet so I cannot translate it beautifully, let me leave you with the poem itself. *^v^*
O wróbelku
Wróbelek jest mała ptaszyna,
wróbelek istotka niewielka,
on brzydką stonogę pochłania,
lecz nikt nie popiera wróbelka.
Więc wołam: Czyż nikt nie pamięta,
że wróbelek jest druh nasz szczery?!
Kochajcie wróbelka, dziewczęta,
kochajcie, do jasnej cholery!