HYMN
The prison window looks out on a compound.
Snow and clay surrounded
by a concrete wall and barbed wire .
What do you need (0 gray eagle)
this tight crown for?
Bronislaw Maj
***
Who will bear witness to these times?
Who will record them? Certainly none of us:
we've lived here too long, we've soaked the epoch
up too well, we're too loyal to it to tell the truth
about it. To tell the truth - at all. Loyal:
I
say
justice,
but think of revenge's dark joy,
I
say
concern
while thinking
them
and
us,
and
what have they done to me.
I've got
nothing else in my defense: loyalty. And weakness :
that
I
hated wicked people, cheated to shield
the truth, that scorn was my sick pride.
Hatred, scorn, lies-for so many years,
so as to survive and stay pure. But it can't be done:
survive and stay pure. At best - survive.
Stay-mute. Ask: Who will bear witness?
Knowing full well that none of us and certainly no one
else will. Hence without a word.
An
empty epoch.
More full of life than any other because
ours, and we won't see another. Uproar,
clamor, wail, laugh, howl, the same old
song, no words, not a single word
to speak some day
for us.
