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Kasper Miaskowski - On a Painted Glass Goblet
On a Painted Glass Goblet
Glass is ash, although painted with colors,
When in glassworks they make from it wonders:
Better than the sun, when it is borne low
By lathered steeds, before it sinks below –
When bidding farewell with a serene eye,
It encounters a misty cloud behind –
Grants the world a rainbow of many hues,
Like a craftsman
who can a glass produce
With his brush which is green, gold, and sapphire,
And shape it grandly to your heart desire.
And yet what of that? The goblet just then,
Before you drink will fall out of your hand;
And that wonderful crystal turns to ash,
What is left behind with blue smoke will flash.
Glass is ash, but man is ash just as well,
Even if like Phoenix
he could here dwell,
Because this bird created from sun's rays,
Rises from ashes, into ash decays.
But why do I recall Arab wonders?
The day will come when this world full of years
Burns down, like straw, into a big fire thrown,
Ere the eternal judge sits on His throne.
Translated by Michael J. Mikoś
In Greek mythology, Helios, the Sun, climbed in his golden chariot the vault of heaven and descended in the evening in the west.
The craftsman's artistic work is more colorful than a rainbow.
Phoenix was a legendary bird, represented by the ancient Egyptians as living five or six centuries in the Arabian desert. Consumed in fire and reborn from its own ashes, Phoenix was often regarded as an emblem of immortality or of the resurrection.