Adam Mickiewicz

“ The foes have perished. Dost thou see these fires?
Thou see’st? ’Tis Litwa’s havoc with the Germans.
A hundred years heal not the Order’s wounds,
I smote the hundred-headed monster’s heart.
Their treasures wasted, well-springs of their power,
Their towns in flames, a sea of blood has flowed,—
I caused all this! I have fulfilled my vows!
More fearful vengeance hell might not conceive.
I will no more of it—I am a man!
I spent my youth in foul hypocrisy,
In bloody, murders. Now, bent down with age,
Wearied of treasons, I am unfit for war.
Enough of vengeance. Germans, too, are men! ”

“ There a land rail calls from the meadow—it is vain to seek it, for it flees away through the grass like a pike in the Niemen; there above your head sounds the bell of early spring, the lark, hidden as deeply in the sky; there an eagle rustles with its broad wings through the airy heights, spreading terror among sparrows as a comet among stars; or a hawk, hanging beneath the clear blue vault, flutters its wings like a butterfly impaled on a pin, until, catching sight in the meadow of a bird or a hare, it swoops upon it from on high like a falling star. ”

“ All people yell, the pumps release a baleful wail,
The ropes yanked out of deckhands’ palms: we’ve lost the sail!
Lo! Sun in blood-shade setting, hope there is no more.
The gale in triumph howls, and on the sodden hills
That rise above the chaos of the fatal sea,
A genius of death ascended, and now he
Assails the fortress long destroyed and further kills.
Some on the deck lie dying, drowning in despair;
Some fall in neighbor’s arms and sadly say good bye;
Some pray to drive the death away, some pray to die. ”

“ In very truth nothing so kindles the feelings in the heart as when heart separates from heart. Time is like a blast of wind; it extinguishes only the little candle; a great flame it fans to an even mightier conflagration. And my heart also is capable of loving even more mightily at a distance. Pan Soplica, I regarded you as my rival; that mistake was one of the causes of our lamentable quarrel, which forced me to draw the sword against your household. I perceive my mistake, for you sighed to the little shepherdess, while I had given my heart to this fair nymph. ”

“ The Demon of political and warlike ambition then appears to him under the form of a gigantic eagle, whose wings stir him like the cannon's roar, the trumpet's call; he yields to the temptation, and the Guardian Angel pleads no more! He determines to become great, renowned, to rule over men: military glory and political power are to console him for the domestic ruin he has spread around him, in having preferred the delusions of his own excited imagination to the love and faith of the simple but tender heart which God had confided to him in the holy bond of marriage. ”

“ I dreamed that the Muscovite cavalry fell on us unexpectedly; they killed me in advance, then cut down my gunners, and finally a Muscovite cuirassier mounted my cannon like a horse and started to plug it, looking at me with contemptuous eyes. Then I felt all the torments of the husband of Lucretia and the torments of the father of Virginia. Although I was already a cold and stiff corpse, nevertheless I gathered all my strength to give some sign of life and adjusting to myself, I managed at last to scream so strongly, that I both woke myself and alarmed the entire camp. ”

“ As when a pair of workmen at Sluck are making a Polish girdle; a girl at the base of the loom smooths and presses the web with her hands, while the weaver throws her from above threads of silver, gold and purple, forming colours and flowers: thus to-day the wind spread all the earth with mist and the sun embroidered it.
Maciej was warming himself in the sun after finishing his prayers, and was already setting about his household work. He brought out grass and leaves; he sat down in front of his house and whistled: at this whistle a multitude of rabbits bobbed up from beneath the ground. ”

“ He presses his love to his bosom so cold,
They perish together in sea-depths unknown.
Thee too, poor Litwinka, the stranger shall call
Away from the joys of that sweet native vale;
Thou deep in Forgetfulness' billows must fall,
But sadder thy fate, for alone thou must fail.
For streamlet and heart by no warning are crost,
The maiden will love and the Wilija will run;
And in her loved Niemen the Wilija is lost,
In the dark prison-tower weeps the maiden undone. ”

“ At last Zosia, by this time wearied, met Thaddeus as she passed down the line; and, fearing further change, and wishing to remain with him, she brought the dance to an end. She went to the table to pour wine for the guests.
The sun was already setting, the evening was warm and quiet; the circle of the heavens, here and there strewn with little clouds, was azure on high, but rosy in the west; the little clouds foretold fine weather, being light and shining—here like flocks of sheep sleeping on the greensward, there of somewhat smaller size, like coveys of teal. ”

“ Is not our honest birch tree fairer, which is like a village woman weeping for her son, or a widow for her husband, who wrings her hands and lets fall over her shoulders to the ground the stream of her loose tresses? Mute with grief, how eloquently she sobs with her form! Count, if you are in love with painting, why do you not paint our own trees, among which you are sitting? ”

“ But haply even in this passing hour,
Now when their native song their hearts can move.
The pulses of those hearts may beat more strong,
Their souls may feel the ancient pride and love;
And live one moment in such noble power,
As lived their forefathers their whole life long.
But why invoke the ages long gone by,
And for the present's glory find no voice?
For in your midst a great man liveth nigh—
I sing of him. Ye, Litwini, rejoice!
Silent the old man was, and hearkened round,
If still the Germans will permit his song. ”