His three books of prose – retellings of old fairy tales – are some of the best Polish prose ever written; the prose is strangely rhythmic and breaks out occasionally in rhyme. It makes me think of the Persian prose of the nineteenth century Indian poet Ghalib.
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Running past a thicket of bushes unknown to me, I saw out of the corner of my eye a flower so unusual and strange, that I stopped, arrested by its sight. It was a small flower, but woven as it were from golden flame, and it burnt so intensely, so brilliantly, that I covered my eyes with my hand, blinded as I was by the wonderous glare.
I plucked the flower carefully, afraid that it might burn me with its fiery cup. But I discovered that its flame does not burn at all, but stirs with its glow one’s vital powers and wakes one from all drowsiness. Immediately my exhaustion departed and I felt as if woken from heavy sleep.
I hid the flower under my cloak, so as to hold it closer to my heart; warmed by the flower it began to beat stronger and more gladly. It seemed to me as if I were continuously waking from various unpleasant dreams. Full of these awakenings, I ran on.
Then upon one of the meadows in the forest I saw a beautiful youth. He wore royal robes. He walked to and fro upon the meadow and every now and then he leaned forward towards the grass, as if looking for something.
I approached and heard that the youth, who did not notice me, was saying to himself:
“I am searching for you, o fiery flower, o flower of awaking! I am searching but do not find you! I know you grow somewhere on this island. Where are you, o fiery flower, o flower of awakening? How sleepy it is without you, how sleepy! How numb it is without you, how numb! How fearful it without you, how fearful! But I seek you in vain! My eyes see nothing so I cannot see you. I could at best hit upon your flaming cup with my hand; or hear the crackle of your fire with my ear. Dream… dream in me, dream… outside of me, dream… above me! Dream… near, dream… far, dream… everywhere, dream… all over!”
I listened carefully, but did not understand he youth’s complaints. He was so beautiful and so unusual that I felt a heartfelt friendship for him. And I guessed that he was searching for the flower which I had hidden under my cloak.
I approached another step; he raised towards me his large, blue eyes and appeared to look at me with them. But it was a strange, dreamy gaze… I felt that while looking, he did not see. My figure was reflected in his sky-blue eyes, in which there was nothing other but the sky-blue.
I decided to speak to the youth in order to announce my presence.
“Can you hear my voice?” I asked after a moment’s reflection.
The youth opened wide his sky-blue eyes.
“I hear your voice, though I do not see your person”, he whispered. “Are you an enemy or are you a friend of those who are sad?”
“A friend” I said quickly. “Do not fear me for I mean you well. I heard your complaints but did not understand them. I can see your person, and I can hear your voice, but I do not now who you are.”
“Dream… dream in me, dream… outside of me, dream… above me!” said the youth. “I am he who has never experienced anything on earth other than dream! In vain I visit this island every year! In vain I search for the fiery flower whose mere touch grants us awakening! Dream… near, dream… far, dream… everywhere, dream… all over! My eyes have till now not seen reality; only sounds and whisperings and rustlings from the real world reach me. On the north coast of this island there is a city. The king of the city is named Mirakles. A thousand million years ago Mirakles arrived on this uninhabited island, and lay upon the shore to invigorate himself with a nap. He lay down and fell asleep. And he dreamed a huge city, and thousands of subjects, and the beautiful Princess Chryseida, and palaces, and gardens, and mountains, and rivers, and streams, and birds, and flowers, and trees. And whatever he dreamed inside him, that too also happened outside him, and is happening even now. It does not exist, but it keeps on happening, and happening endlessly! Since one thousand million years ago the king has not woken up; he is still lying on the northern shore of this island, dreaming his everlasting dream. You can see his huge city with your own eyes, and his subjects, and the Princess Chryseida, and the palaces, and the gardens… All of this has been dreamt up; all of it is sleepy from exhaustion and dying to be woken up! All of it will disappear without a trace the instant the king wakes! Yet the king is unable to wake and his subjects in vain attempt to disturb him with their wailing and lamentation! Their eyes are sky-blue and blind like mine. They see nothing except the objects which the king has dreamt. They see nothing… they only hear. They are exhausted with this everlasting blindness; and the constant listening to whisperings, and rustlings, and sounds. Three thousand years ago Princess Chryseida heard the crackle of the fiery flower, which grows on this island, and whose touch wakes people from the deepest dream. And since that day, I, a subject of king Mirakles, and Princess Chryseida’s favorite page, each year set out into the interior of the island, to wander sightlessly and to feel with my hands for the flower of liberation! But my search has been in vain! Oh, when will the king Mirakles finally wake? Oh, when will we, his subjects, finally rest from his endless dreams and dissolve into thin air, like the dreams of other people?”
“Be of good cheer, o dreamt up youth!” I said with deep sympathy. “Here approaches the moment of king Mirakles’ awakening! I have the fiery flower for which you have been searching. I have found it a moment ago and hidden it under my cloak. Take me to your city so that I may touch with this flower the sleeping king and free all of you from his tiresome dreams!”
The unseeing eyes of the youth filled up with joy.
“Oh, blessed the day of our meeting, my invisible friend!” he cried out, reaching out both his hands towards me. “Oh, why was it not given me to see him who brings us liberation! Sadly, you shall remain forever mysterious and invisible to me, as is all reality. I only know your voice and in the vast expanse of the real world can only identify you by it. Follow me to our bewitched city… I will lead you, for I can guess the way in my dream. There, within the borders of our realm, my eyes will regain the ability to see – to see all the objects which are the stuff of our king Mirakles’ dreams. There I will not be entirely blind. Let us rush for our people are exhausted with the constant persevering in dreams and every moment of delay causes pain to our Princess Chryseida and all her dreamy compatriots.”
With a winged step the youth led the way towards the north shore of the island. I followed him and as I walked I felt the fiery flower burn ever more intensely under my cloak, as if it sensed that it would so soon touch the sleeping king with its flame. When we finally entered the city through its wide open gates, a wonderful and strange view came before my eyes. The whole city was sky-blue because king Mirakles had for one thousand million years dreamt a dream incessantly and restlessly sky-blue.
I saw sky-blue palaces, sky-blue bridges, sky-blue trees and flowers and birds; even the pavement of the street was sky-blue. Everyone was dressed in sky-blue clothes and scholars and wise men wore sky-blue glasses.
“My blindness has left me” said the youth. “I see everything, everything except you because you are not a dream of our king Mirakles, but a being of the real world. We shall soon come to the public square before the
The square about which he spoke was before us. We stood before the
The square soon filled up with a huge throng of sky-blue-clad people, with the Princess Chriseida among them.
The bell fell silent. Then, in the silence, I heard a melodious whisper which rose from the lips of all present. Their lips whispered constantly:
“We are sad!... We are longing!... We feel lost!...”
The youth called out in a loud voice:
“Be glad and rejoice because among us is a man who carries under his cloak the fiery flower, the flower of awakening! This man has come here in order to wake king Mirakles and gift to us the possibility of dissipating and vanishing into thin air, just as the dreams of other people do!”
“Let him speak to us!” yelled the crowd. “Unable to see his person, we want to hear his voice! Let him tell us his name!”
“My name is Sindbad!” I called out. “The flower of awakening burns intensely under my cloak upon my breast! But I am not sure whether I should touch with it the sleeping king and wake him from this wonderful dream. You are all too beautiful for me to want to lnd my hand to your disappearance!”
“We are sad!... We are longing!... We feel lost!...” whispered painfully the crowd of the dreamt-up men.
Their whisper touched my heart.
“O bewitched people, o dreamt-up people!” I called out again. “I shall gladly fulfill your wish if only the beautiful Princess Chriseida confirms it. Do you hear me?”
“We hear!... we hear!... we hear!” whispered the crowd.
Princess Chriseida stretched out her arms in the direction of my voice.
“Sindbad” she said, “do this, the people of our city beg you. We are too exhausted with the long dream of king Mirakles; and with our blindness to all reality. We wish to disappear, to dissipate, to stop appearing to our king in his dreams. I do not see you, Sindbad, but I hear your melodious voice. I would gladly marry you, but I hasten to dissipation and disappearance; to rest.”
“We hasten!... we hasten!... we hasten!” whispered the crowds.
I was charmed by the exquisite beauty of Princess Chriseida. I approached, took her hand, and said:
“Come to your senses, O Princess! Why do you wish to cease to exist on earth? Oh, permit king Mirakles to continue dreaming this wonderful dream!”
“Give up your request, invisible stranger,” the princess replied. “Fulfill my and my people’s desire. Come with me to the shore where for millennia king Mirakles has slept and touch him with the fiery flower!”
The princess lightly ran ahead, pulling me behind her by my hand, which she did not for a moment release. The crowd, undulating in sky-blue waves, followed in her footsteps and mine.
We arrived at the northern shore. Upon it, lost in sleep, king Mirakles lay. He was so gigantic that he made the impression of a living hill, a hill breathing calmly in its sleep. The crowds dreamt up by him sighed when he sighed, they rubbed their eyes when he rubbed his, they cried when he cried in his sleep.
“Take the flower from under your cloak!” the princess spoke.
I took out the flower. It blazed upon its stalk.
“Approach the king!” the princes spoke again.
“Wake him!... wake him!... wake him!” yelled the crowd.
“O princess!” I called out. “Think what awaits you! You will cease to exist and you will never be again! I love you and I want to marry you! I will take you into the real world, into real palaces and real gardens, where real flowers bloom and real birds sing!”
“My eyes are blind to all reality” replied the princess. “I shall never see the wonders which you promise me. Can you not understand what torture it is to have to cry the instant king Mirakles cries in his sleep, and to sigh when he sighs, and to smile when he smiles at his dreams? Oh, allow me to dissipate and vanish; allow me to stop being the dream of this king!”
“Wake him!... wake him!... wake him!” the crowd whispered again.
At that instant, king Mirakles cried in his sleep. A group cry shook the whole crowd and the slender body of the princess. I have never heard such a cry! Only then did I understand the full extent of the misery of these strange creatures. I have decided to interrupt the dream, to end their suffering. I approached the king and slapped him in the face with the fiery flower, which disappeared from my hand in that instant. At the same moment Princess Chriseida, and the crowd, and the whole city dissipated into nothing and vanished into thin air.
King Mirakles moved, rubbed his eyes, and got up to his feet.
He was so gigantic, so tall that he did not even notice my presence.
“How long I seem to have slept!” he said to himself. “I had a sky-blue dream of some kind, but where is that dream now? Where is Princess Chriseida? Where are the sky-blue palaces? Everything has disappeared without a trace!”
I walked away quickly from the giant because I have spotted a ship sailing near the shore. I waved and the ship immediately pulled up.
I ran on board and advised the captain immediately to depart, because I was afraid of the giant king. We got some fair distance away when I heard the voice of king Mirakles again as he spoke to himself:
“I shall lie down on the shore and dream another dream. After this last sky-blue dream I want now to dream a purple dream!”
King Merikles yawned and lay down on the shore. And he must have instantly fallen asleep because both the captain and I, and all the sailors, saw a new city arise on the island by degrees, full of purple palaces, and purples gardens, purple trees and flowers and birds. Shortly, the city filled with a great throng of people in purple clothes and it seemed to me that I spotted among the crowd a newly created princess as beautiful as Princess Chriseida.
But soon the ship moved away and the city dreamt up by King Mirakles slipped out of our sight.
After three months’ sailing, the ship arrived in
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