BolesΕaw LeΕmian - The Girl
Twelve brothers who believed in dreams, scouted a wall among phantasms;
Beyond the wall there cried a voice - voice of a Girl long gone through chasms.
They fell in love with voiceβs sound and with their own wishful believing,
And tried to guess shape of her lips from how her song died out in grieving.
They said βshe cries therefore she isβ - and nothing else they said but wondered,
They blessed the world with sign of cross - and then the world grew still and pondered.
The hammers held in hardened hands, they launched against the walls in clamor!
And night was blind, and couldnβt tell: which part was man and which - the hammer?
βLetβs hurry and undo cold stone, before in death the Girlβs enrusted!β
The youngest brother thus cried out - and in their hammersβ strength they trusted.
But all their efforts were in vain, their arms exertions and pain - futile!
They sacrificed their bodies to the dream enticing, yet so brutal!
Their chests caved in, their bones crushed down, decayed their hands and faded facesβ¦
They died together in one day and shared one nightβs eternal spaces.
But dead menβs shadows - my good Lord! - instead of stopping they persisted!
And they went on, in eerie time - the hammersβ sounds continued, twisted.
They clanged ahead! And back they clashed! And upwards in resounding clamor!
And night was blind, and couldnβt tell: which part was shade and which - the hammer?
βLetβs hurry and undo cold stone, before in death the Girlβs enrusted!β
The youngest shadow thus cried out - and in their hammersβ strength they trusted.
But suddenly their strength had waned, night came and they were overpowered!
And - since you never die enough - they died again, by dark devoured.
Never enough, never the way the moribund would want, departing!β¦
Their substance - lost without a trace, their story closed instead of starting!
But stalwart hammers - my good Lord! - didnβt surrender to bereavement!
And on their own they fought the wall, rumbling for naught but the achievement!
They rumbled forth through days and nights, sweating like humans do, through clamor!
And night was blind, and couldnβt tell: whatβs hammer if not just a hammer?
βLetβs hurry and undo cold stone, before in death the Girlβs enrusted!β
The youngest hammer thus cried out - and in their own pure strength they trusted.
And the wall fell with booming crash, sounding through every nook and cranny!
Alas! Beyond they found no Girl, only the waiting void; uncanny.
There was no eyes! There was no lips! Nobodyβs fate needed securing!
There was but voice - and only voice, nothing but voice tempting and luring!
Nothing but night, and cries, and grief, and loss in every uttered letter!
This is the world! Such awful world! Couldnβt it have been different, better?
Against the dreams that lied out loud, against the wish obliterated,
The hammers finally went to rest, relief deserved and so belated.
And there was silence all around! The emptiness reigning forever!
Why do you mock that emptiness although it doesnβt mock you ever?
