A Strange but True Adventure That Happened This Autumn in Puławy

You know, my dearest Marynia, that both from inclination and from necessity, my nature constantly urges me to stray onto byways and toward other places.

The sight of a beautiful landscape pleasantly fills my thoughts: often the meeting with a humble pilgrim, staff in hand, whose reverie shortens his road, offers me curious entertainment. I strike up a conversation, accompany him for a stretch, listening to his stories. Still more often I speak with my heart, passing through places where we once walked together.

One day I went to the Temple of Memory – it had been a long time since I last visited. My soul still finds a homeland there! After several hours I came out, and my eyes rested in astonishment on a crowd of children filling all the steps and the whole surroundings. “They are orphans,” I told myself – “they need care and aid.” My heart has never resisted such a sight. Wherever there is a child – emblem of young Radiance – delicate as a Zephyr, fresh as the morning, tinged with the colors of spring on the threshold between worlds.

I drew closer – some reached out their hands to me, others hid away, some bore the expression of being offended. Astonished by their beauty, I wanted to question them, but all spoke at once and I could not understand them: the noise, like the flutter of wings of a bird flock diving into the leaves of a dense tree, made it impossible to approach. Beneath their light garments I saw wings of various colors, moving constantly, and in the silver curls of their fair hair – bands brighter than the rainbow! What am I thinking – what is it they are telling me now! At my age they still try to stir me…

Already I guessed that this pretty gathering was nothing but Cupids.

I turned to the one who seemed their leader and asked the meaning of this strange visit.

“I am Love,” he said.

“Indeed you are,” I replied.

“This crowd that follows in my steps,” he continued, “are my brotherly shadows. At first I was one, but I was divided. It must be so – Love is and will always be the same. Then happiness and friendship accompanied me!

Hope brushed the paths I traveled, leaving behind the light Grace, whom I followed with trust. Sometimes I would rest my eyes upon her – and her sweet, fragrant breath would restore the freshness to the colors of my wings and my band. But see how strange this world is! What I thought made for the happiness of the universe soon became a source of weariness: my constancy began to be taken for monotony, no one desired anyone but me, and everyone imposed on me their own idea. Even Hope became fleeting – appearing without end, seizing me, then vanishing into a wave of air.

I complained of this to my mother, but was not understood: more jealous of her beauty than of my reign, with a single breath she scattered all these Cupids across the universe! Each of my brothers has his own face. Venus divided among them her charms, her brilliance – and her faults.

Look at the one who stamps his feet and claps his hands: that is demanding love. That one sulking in the corner like a child – difficult love, never satisfied. That tiny one who made a bed of flowers under the reclining lions – spoiled child-love. Intolerable! The rogue sharpening a dagger – jealous love. I recommend it to no one; and that charming one smiling among the roses – tender, gentle love. And finally, the one playing with butterflies – innocent, light love. That other, caressing a large dog – faithful love. And that one sprawling on a panther – capricious love. The one weeping, pressing his eyes to his band – the saddest of my brothers, melancholy love. The one measuring the depth of an abyss with a glance and a flame – desperate love. The one holding him back with tiny hands – love still leaning toward hope. She adorned him with her colors – the most tender of the tender, with fair hair. That one turning his eyes away and refusing even to look – treacherous love. He has blond hair, swimming eyes, and his band is blackened by the smoke of an eternally restless flame. Look at the tiny one who wants to open the gates of the Temple. He climbs, carrying a bundle of weapons to reach them – of my companions, he is the most glorious. And that one playing with peacocks on the Temple’s cornice – love whose constant cheerfulness is a bewitching charm.

Do you see the one hiding behind the columns, whom I keep glancing at? That is coquettish, mischievous love. The little one pressing a rose petal to his crimson lips – discreet love. That fair-haired one kneeling and stretching his arms to the sky – repentant love. And the one whose veiled face hides in the depths of a hood – seeking love. The tousled child in tattered garments – vagabond love. (When stripped bare – it always ends badly.) That one hiding behind the lilacs – playful love. He often steals our arrows and torches – and that is when the most delightful absurdities are born!”

When I leaned my head to look at him, I saw a charming woman holding a sleeping Cupid in the folds of her snow-white robe. I took her for Venus. Then I thought – perhaps Hebe?

“No,” said my little guide. “That is Friendship.”

The little rascal threw himself into her arms – and never appears otherwise than under her name.

I was dazzled and could no longer grasp what had gathered these charming beings at the foot of this Temple, where time erases all that is linked to inconstancy. Lost – you are surely asking about the Spirit of Flowers – I said. But at my age one can no longer serve him.

“No!” cried the leader of the procession, stamping his foot on the Temple’s paving. “It is a mystery we are trying to solve. Here is the matter – in four words,” he added, lifting his band. “Nature yields to us – but your daughter rebels! Each of us has tried to tame this strange creature – but nothing has succeeded.

Coquettish love amused her. Love masquerading as friendship sent her glances – but even that failed. Soon they were thrown out the door – and now she toys with our efforts! They say you know her secret. We have come to learn it.”

“Ah,” I replied, “it is no easy task to penetrate a woman’s heart! Who knows if I understand it myself? But here is what I have noticed – and what I will confide to you under the seal of secrecy: I have seen young men assigned roles – and who swore while considering what they did not wish to do. I understood this well – and that is why I speak of it in this way. Since I have known Marie, I have seen but one love that has never left her. Love to which she gives the most tender, faithful, delicate care. Love that has never changed – and whose charm spills over into every moment.”

The little curious crowd huddled close to me and listened intently – waiting eagerly for the riddle’s solution.

“It is the love of her happy mother,” I said at last. “An inspired love that never leaves her! My happiness and my renewal are its fruits. It is unlike you,” I added, “but has charms that nothing can replace.”

Moved, the winged companion trembled. The lovely children’s faces grew solemn, touched. I saw them rise into the air – almost all of them, one after the other.

Love masquerading as friendship knew only play – but followed his brothers.

And I, gathering the fragments of laughter and all those children… I made of them a trophy which I carried into the Temple, to always – yes, always – remember this beloved love of Marie.