The Ballad of the Magi

(Translated from the Polish of Krzystof Kamil Baczynski)

They sieved the mysteries in themselves, like
close grains of perfumed sand
as they, three kings, rode
through the red and burning land.

The camel rocked like a shipmast
and the sand became like water
and one of them reflected: “I am young
and the hour of glory is not yet gone.”

“And I shall see in flames of porphyry
how blooms the radiance of stronger spells
how might, might outstripping deeds, swells
up this once, this one and only time.”

Snake-like, the tiger coiled his strength
the fur and muscles playing like a harp
and on this tiger rode the second king
who tore his silver hair in thought.

“Now—he murmured—after so many years,
once I behold the miracle of writhing flame,
my spells will open the treasure troves to me,
the blood will run in all my auguries.”

“The earth filled like a golden nut
will crack her shell like ice
and the diamond caves, their mouths will open
this once, this one and only time.”

The third king rode a giant fish
as big as an island
they sped through the steppe with nimbleness
billowing on a bright wind.

He hummed “At last, for a century desired
the flowering and end of fire
in the circle of entangled harmonies
I shall see—and become divine.”

“On the dry leaves of my blackest books
pours the wisdom of eternal, starlit lands
I will cup it in vessel of my hands
this once, this one and only time.”

In palaces set on fields of green
where waves of baize rose like stormy seas
the three kings had three bells of brightest peal
and every day they hid their hearts therein.

They ran too fast, so in that haste
they brought only thoughts filled with sin.
And so, like pillars of golden dust
they knelt before a mystery
not seeing that their hearts were dragged along
the earth behind, like beaten dogs.

And in that instant, all the kings at once
saw the child—like a drop of light—
and beheld within the mirror of themselves
—a thing black, cracked and roaring.

Suddenly, they felt three hearts again
which clenched like fists from sorrow
so they returned with great peace within
rocked by the beasts as if in lullaby:

The camel swayed like a mast set free
the tiger purred quiet as the sea
the fish walked firmly on the misty air.
And like a stream, it rose and flowed in them.

They returned, running from above
the three kings who had learned of love.