(A ballad)
I
Unseen in evening, nor in the morn,
For she’s disrobed . . .
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Asleep no doubt! – let her maids with frank words
Give her snub,
Or, ere arising without clothes,
She bathes in a tub.
II
Meanwhile with boxes stand three seamstresses,
And cobblers in droves,
Who see nothing, yet with their guesses
Size Her for robes.
III
Meanwhile children in the morning hour
Head somewhere for school;
A tiller takes plow, rivers flow – Warta,
Nida, and Vistula.
IV
Serene the view, serene the morning aroma,
At glowing dawn –
A pity, because when disrobed,
She can’t glimpse it all!
V
The world says thus: “Don your attire
From the threesome stack:
In Western-Eastern-motley style
Or – a mourning sack! . . .”
VI
Hearing this, I have a different view
On the Disrobed’s behest:
Unclad indeed, yet of what sheen and hue
Is Diana’s breast!
VII
Actaeon pales, struck by the light,
No hounds retreat at trumpet’s blare;
The Hyperborean forest shakes terrified,
Like a shack trembling and frail . . .
VIII
Whilst she’s unarmored – nor in Roman togs –
Yet grave and lovely fine,
Yet ever mindful, that for all time
This is – the punishment of Gods!
1881