Within Their Silent, Perfect Glass

Within their silent perfect glass
The mirror waters, vast and clear,
Reflect the silhouette of rocks,
Dark faces brooding on the shore.

Within their silent, perfect glass
The mirror waters show the sky;
Clouds skim across the mirror's face,
And dim its surface as they die.

Within their silent, perfect glass
The mirror waters image storm;
They glow with lightning, but the blast
Of thunder do not mar their calm.

Those mirror waters, as before,
Still lie in silence, vast and clear.

The mirror me, I mirror them,
As true a glass as they I am:
And as I turn away I leave
The images that gave them form.

Dark rocks must menace from the shore,
And thunderheads grow large with rain;
Lightning must flash above the lake,
And I must mirror and pass on,
Onward and onward without end.

by Adam Mickiewicz

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