A TALE OF THREE WITCHES

                       Three moons shone,
                        three witches flew on.
            Flew far, flew far along celestial roads
    again and again they vanished in the clouds –
– and high on the Bare Mountain
the devil, the devil was awaiting them
  with horns of gold.

                        One of them had hair of red,
              on a black broomstick she sped.
                      Hey! Hey! Hey! Hey!
                       The second one, grey as a moth
                      clung to her poker                               
                               out of breath –
                 Hey! Hey! Hey! Hey!                       
                 Like a white swallow
                 the third, poor dear,
wore a vervain wreath in her golden hair,
picked from a meadow at midnight,
bathed in the full moon’s glowing light.
Her lips were red, cat’s fat shone
                                   on her skin,
her fallen eyes burned with her suffering.
           She rode a spade.
Hey! Hey! Hey! Hey!

In the shadow of three crosses, on the Bare Mountain,
the devil sits by the red fire,
                   broods,
                   he wraps his tail round him,
                    hugs his hooves
                    and questions the witches:
                    the one with scarlet hair,
                     the one who’s grey and twitches
           and one who is more silver than the full moon’s disk:
            What do they love him for?
                     The scarlet one says this:
                    “I love you, Satan,
my lips adore you for your kisses,
            for the miracle of possession.
My husband! Come!
          Who tastes you once is yours eternally!
          Bind me with your arm
          and always stand by me!
Everything in the world is a lie save your embrace,
it is the trine in Solomon’s star, so rich
I fly towards it in a lightning bolt
in the arboreal night, in the bat’s cry,
            I, the wild witch!”
            – And the old grey one says,
            ugly as a reptile:
“My body – an empty sheet,
its treasures ransacked by time.
            And so it goes.
            I was loved by princes, by the elite
          kings, lords and nobles, even God!
Today strong young feet are crushing me, I’m trod
down like an earwig or woodlouse
and for you only now this empty sack
            contains a treasure house.
           At night, when the moon sprinkles its light,
           you come to me –
           stop at my bedside
           and with your hand in this coffin body greedily
                        search for my soul.
            It hides, beautiful as a lily.
            You alone, alone, desire something from me.
            So I shuffle behind you down the darkness of no return
                        and I do love you Satan, love you, yearn
            for your grace: – how your desire burns!”

– Satan is silent, strokes his beard,
sees the third witch’s beauty, calls her near
and sits her on his lap,
– in the fire, juniper cracks.
Silent words flow along, as full of sorrows as a swan’s song:
            “Longing brings me here,
            longing like a storm
            and sorrow without measure. –
            False Jasiek did me harm.
            – But you stay true to me,
            do not hurt me without cause,
            pay for my love with loveliness,
            my yearning desire with yours –
           though you are only darkness
                       and the shadow of the Lord. –
            Lead me home with you,
            deliver me not to any other,
neither to people nor to gods
           nor to friends, nor to foes,
            for no one has ever heard,
            no one will ever say,
            that the devil, the devil, could drive a damned soul away!”

 On the Bare Mountain three black crosses stand,
white ghosts and quick shadows dance there hand in hand.
    Hey! Hey! Hey! Hey!

(1922)