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Welcome to “Przekrój”!

In case you’re wondering where you are, and especially since you probably can’t pronounce the name of this website, here’s a little help—“Przekrój” (pronounced “p-SHEH-crooy”) is the oldest society and culture magazine in Poland, now available in English.

“Przekrój” Magazine brings English-speaking readers some of the best journalism from across Central and Eastern Europe, in the fields of wellbeing, art, literature, science, ecology, philosophy, psychology, and more. Take a break from the speed and intensity of the daily news and join us!

“those are your Sunday rules / that you kill the rooster...” Marcin Orliński presents a piece by ...
2019-04-24 00:00:00
it’s only sunday
it’s only sunday
Read in 2 minutes

why you crying stupid
it's okay now
those are your Sunday rules
that you kill the rooster come on
is this your first time on a farm
that you’re so shocked stop shaking
coz you’ll miss and then you gotta pluck
head on the block and then the axe

you won’t cut it off?
give it to me I’ll do it

they all ran off look as if they could sense
as if they feared they’d be next on the block chop
where does it come from in all living things
well where
this desire to live to avoid the block
how powerful even hens so very afraid

Author’s comments:

They told us that we couldn’t, that it’s forbidden, don’t we dare. But how could we not go out when those hay bales are so damp and warm, steam almost rising. It’s hottest on damp hay, inside it probably burns. I returned home soaked through and feverish, because in November it’s only warm on hay bales.

“Don’t you worry, we’ll give you some chicken broth, that’s best for illnesses. They’ll tell you on TV, in newspapers and radio that it's fatty, bad for you, no good for digestion. Look at them, wise guys, with their high-school diplomas, said they’ve been all around the world, but they don’t know that there is nothing to beat a good bit of broth. Neither wise nor stupid, I always say they know next to nothing. We all eat chicken broth around here and look, we live on and on! And those who’ve moved on, who could tell how short they might have lasted had they not eaten their broth.” I listened, thinking of the red stains upon the courtyard, while she ladled out broth. There was an aroma. She then sprinkled some chopped frozen parsley from a plastic margarine tub.


Translated by Marek Kazmierski

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Antonina Małgorzata Tosiek

was born in 1996. She has two first names. Once upon a time, she wanted to become Danuta Szaflarska, but then remembered that she prefers to tell stories penned upon paper. She acts, attends Polish Studies at the University of Poznań, and writes poems and stage plays. Winner of several poetry prizes. Awaiting the publication of her debut volume of poetry.