I'm in the same camp.
I speak it everyday with my family.
There's no movie or work of art or anything that I can think of that would benefit from me viewing it in its original language over a translation.
There's no big demand for Polish English translators. People in Poland are taught English now, anyway.
Okay, there's very likely a book or poems I'd like to read.
Thing is, I never actually studied it so I have no idea how to read or spell anything.
I'm sure I have a bad American accent.
I actually wish I grew up Ukrainian, desu. qt prosecutor aside, they have the best poets.
Taras Shevchenko, Oleksandr Oles, Ivan Franko....
I'll post this one. It actually describes not just Ukraine right now but America, too. The eagle.
I mean this translation is Engrish-y but still so beautiful.
Formerly you seemed to me like a wounded eagle
That has been left in the field in agony to die...
Your eyes are watching the damned enemy,
Who wanted to trample you with his feet.
You are breathing with anger and burning, but not dying...
To dig you are shuffling ground with your claws,
With one wing you're beating off the rooks
And laying on the second broken wing...
Formerly you seemed to me like a stately knight,
Who laid in steppe to rest on the stone...
You are hardly sleeping and raving about the lucky battle,
While your enemy is hissing like a snake...
My nation! And you - an eagle, that has been wounded at the night,
And you are a knight, who has been captured!
Oh my eagle, my winged giant,
Oh my knight, who has been punished for the sleep!..
Why, my eagle, don't you fly with eagles,
But you are dragging wings, as oars, by the ground?!
Why, my knight, don't you go in battle,
But you are lamentably crying with a wind on the tillage?!
So what is an eagle, if his eagle's flock
Doesn't dart off from the earth into the blue of serene day,
And what kind of knight are you with smile of servant,
Without proud thoughts, without a honour and a name?!
- Oleksandr Oles