"Thou model mine, divine in all thy beauty,
Compared with whom spring's roses even languish,
O brightest star, produced on earthly meadows,
Yet unsurpassed by heaven's luminaries!
"Pure spirit, encompassed in crystal,
From which thou shinest in lofty light of virtue;
Perfected creature by the hand of God,
My spirit's comfort and my heart's delight!"
(H. S.)
If during the more ancient epochs there are recorded no Polish women who
have made a mark in literary pursuits, this is not due to any
intellectual deficit in those otherwise brilliant and gifted
representatives of the fair sex, but to prevailing conditions, which did
not permit them to turn from the maidenly or housewifely occupations,
for
"Woman's virtue never gets along
With novel-reading, sport, and song."
According to the Polish idea, man belongs on the horse, woman to the
hearth; in which respect the otherwise antagonistic Germans and Poles do
not differ essentially, if we may accept Emperor William's formulated
four K's: _Kirche_ (church), _Kuche_ (kitchen), _Kinder_ (children),
_Kleider_ (clothing), as typical of German ideals.
Nevertheless, there were not wanting intellectual women who contributed
to the brilliancy of the Polish genius during the golden era of their
nation's literature. It touches us strangely when the great Polish poet
Kochanowski sings in the elegies upon the death of his little daughter
Ursula, in 1580:
"Thou, Slavie Sappho, singer young and sweet,
The heiress of my poetry shouldst thou be;
This was my hope in cheerful mood,
When lovely songs welled from thy angel lips,
Unconscious to thyself, yet sweet to me....
Alas! too early silent, didst thou part,
Snatched forth by death, beloved poetess!...
Not even death sealed thy poetic lips,
That, full of woe, spoke with heart-breaking kiss:
'No longer can I, mother, serve thee now;
My place near by thy side will be no more;
The honor of the keyboard will not fall to me;
O Loved ones, far from you must I depart.
Thus didst thou speak, and more, angel of death,
Which I forgot in bitter parting's woe."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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