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 voice’s 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 “she cries therefore she is” - 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 couldn’t tell: which part was man and which - the hammer?
“Let’s hurry and undo cold stone, before in death the Girl’s enrusted!”
The youngest brother thus cried out - and in their hammers’ 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 faces…
They died together in one day and shared one night’s eternal spaces.
But dead men’s shadows - my good Lord! - instead of stopping they persisted!
And they went on, in eerie time - the hammers’ sounds continued, twisted.
They clanged ahead! And back they clashed! And upwards in resounding clamor!
And night was blind, and couldn’t tell: which part was shade and which - the hammer?
“Let’s hurry and undo cold stone, before in death the Girl’s enrusted!”
The youngest shadow thus cried out - and in their hammers’ 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!…
Their substance - lost without a trace, their story closed instead of starting!
But stalwart hammers - my good Lord! - didn’t 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 couldn’t tell: what’s hammer if not just a hammer?
“Let’s hurry and undo cold stone, before in death the Girl’s enrusted!”
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! Nobody’s 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! Couldn’t 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 doesn’t mock you ever?
Translation: Maria Gral
I did it. Damn, but this feels good, especially after that “Leśmian is so difficult to translate” post. I kept the rhythm, I kept the imagery, I tried to keep that archaic feel… I had to sacrifice most of the new noun forms he created because English as a non-declinative language simply cannot support most of them, but other than that, I’m really happy with the results.
So here it is. My favourite poem of my favourite Polish poet, now accessible to the world. And yeah, that’s my real name. I’m proud of this work and I want it signed by my name, damnit. :D
Link to the original for those of you who can read it: http://literat.ug.edu.pl/lesman/dziewcz.htm
And big fat THANK YOU to @remingtonfae for being my beta. You’re great!
