farewell to Raskolnikov
'The waiter pretended to be wiping off the table
I wanted to be a Napoleon
Raskolnikov said casually
but all I did was kill a louse
I decided to act
boldly with flair
to pave the way
to being somebody
the air in the luncheonette
was thick and rancid
I was sitting with a former law student
a glass of cloudy tea
on our table
on a plate was a stale
squashed napoleon
greenish cream oozed from the pastry
like dried-up pus
sprinkled with powdered sugar
I forgot about Raskolnikov
he forgot about me
we all have our own concerns
a black fly from out of nowhere
animated Raskolnikov
he set his tea aside
and started swatting with the newspaper
his article was in
I knew he was dying
to show me
or even read aloud his essay
the first publication of a young writer
and a scholar in a hazy
far-off future
I remember this strange special
feeling I now shared
with Roskolnikov the exaltation
my name in print!
youth has its privileges
Forgive me but it was ridiculous
of course you wanted to act
with flair hence an axe
not a fingernail
for if Napoleon had wanted
to kill a louse, he would have used his fingernail
or that of one of his marshalls
you mock me he said
I know the whole thing was
amateurish and shabby
to tell you the truth I did it
out of boredom
I killed in my sleep
I killed a louse in my sleep
but the axe was real
I fired a cannon
at a louse
that's the kind of Schiller I am
Raskolnikov fell into thought
then got up and left
without shaking hands
I was left alone with the napoleon
paid for the tea
and left
Raskolnikov
was standing in front of the luncheonette
which way are you headed I asked
"me? the other way" he said
casually shrugging his shoulders
he waled with his head down
turned right on Sienna Street
soon after
I heard laughter and yelling
whistling and the tinkling of bells
I looked back
Raskolnikov was kneeling in the middle of the road
in a puddle of mud and snow
and horse "chestnuts"
the new top hat Sonya bought for him
he left on the cobblestone
he kissed the pavement three times made the sign of the cross
the crossed himself... applause followed
some rascal knelt alongside Raskolnikov
I tried to help him up but he pushed me away
gently and rose from his knees
took me by the arm
and said confidentially
"here one must be
as inconspicuous as possible...
Details, details
above all
It's always the details that
give you away..."
you go right and I go left
or the other way around.... adieu
mon plaistir... till we meet again!
We never did meet again'
Tadeusz Rozewicz
