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Boleslaw Lesmian

(1877-1937 / Poland)

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Bolesław Leśmian (born Bolesław Lesman; 1877[1]-1937) was a Polish poet, artist and member of the Polish Academy of Literature. He was one of the most influential poets of the early 20th century in Poland, one of the best poets of 20th century and cousin of another notable poet of the epoch - Jan Brzechwa and a nephew of famous poet and writer of Young Poland - Antoni ... more »

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  • Kozly Thorainc (4/24/2013 6:34:00 AM)

    Boleslaw Lesmian Dziewczyna (Girl)

    Twelve brothers, believing in dreams, examined a wall from the side of dreams,
    And beyond the wall a voice was crying, a squandered girly voice.

    And they fell in love with the sound of the voice and a keen surmise about the Girl,
    And they were guessing the shapes of the lips by how the singing dies due to sorrow...

    They were saying about her: She weeps, therefore she is! - and they were saying nothing else,
    And they made the sign of the cross on the entire world - and the world fell into a reverie at this moment...

    They snatched hammers with harsh hand and began to strike the walls with sharp blows!
    And blind night didn't know, who is a human and who is a hammer?

    O, let us crumble the cold rock sooner than death coats the Girl with rust! -
    Says the twelfth brother to the other eleven, banging at the wall.

    Yet, their effort was futile, vain exertion and clasp of shoulders!
    They gave their bodies away to the waste of that dream which was tempting them!

    Breasts are breaking, bone is cracking, hands are decaying, faces are turning pale...
    And all of them died on the same day and had one eternal night!

    But the shadows of the dead - My God! - haven't dropped the hammers from hand!
    And only a different time passes - and only the hammer rings differently...

    And it is ringing forwards! And it is ringing backwards! And upwards it thunders at every reversion!
    And blind night didn't know, who is a shadow here and who is a hammer?

    O, let us crumble the cold rock sooner than death coats the Girl with rust! -
    Says the twelfth shadow to the other eleven, banging at the wall.

    Yet, the shadows lose their strength suddenly and a shadow does not resist darknesses!
    And they became overextinct one more time, because one never dies enough...

    And it is never enough, and never the way the dying one wants it! ...
    And substance disappeared - and trace vanished - and their story is already over!

    But brave hammers - My God - did not surrender to bland mourning!
    And they, alone, through themselves were pealing on the wall, booming with red brass, alone in themselves!

    They rumbled into darkness, they rumbled into brightness and they were dripping with human sweat!
    And blind night didn't know, what a hammer happens to be when it is not a hammer?

    O, let us crumble the cold rock sooner than death coats the Girl with rust! -
    Says the twelfth hammer to the other eleven, banging at the wall.

    And the wall collapsed, shaking hills and valleys with a thousand echoes!
    Yet, beyond the wall - not a thing! Not a living soul, nor the Girl!

    Nobody's eyes, nor lips! And noone's fate in flowers!
    Because it was a voice and only - a voice, and there was nothing but the voice!

    Nothing - just cry and sorrow and darkness and unknownness and perdition!
    Such a world! Not a good world! Why is there no other?

    Towards overtly deceitful dreams, towards wonders that pined away in the nothingness,
    Mighty hammers laid in a row as a sign of difficulties that were fulfilled worthily.

    And there was horror of sudden silences. And there was void in the entire sky!
    And why are you mocking at this void as this void is not mocking at you?

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