One Blushing Slaughterhouse

from Mr. Cogito on Virtue
By Zbigniew Herbert

1

It is not at all strange
she isn't the bride
of real men

of generals
athletes of power
despots

for centuries she has stalked them
that whimpering old maid
in her hideous Salvation Army hat

...

but all around glorious life runs riot
blushing like a slaughterhouse at dawn
...

she becomes smaller and smaller
like a hair in the throat
like a buzzing in the ear

2

my God
if she were a little younger
a little prettier...