Masquerade

the geometer
draws zealously in the air
the multi-coloured shapes of hundreds of figures
with a ceaseless effort he is trying to
wove the veil separating from the passers-by
    and to hide, in the figures, the helplessness
    of the geometer –
in the midst of blizzard
the castle
stands still

the astronomer
looks from afar
on the pleiades of words scattered around
shining with the cold light
he closes the door with the latch
    and throws in tears to ignite
    the fire –
yearning for warmth
the night
does not end

the alchemist
leaning over the weight of the books
mixes the cards of their pages
in the deck with which he is played
he is still amused by this game
    this brewing of an elixir
    within –
among so many substances
looking for
the recipe


(X.2004, Warszawa; transl. from Polish: I.2017, Waterloo)