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The Legal Studies Forum
Volume 30, Number 1/2 (2006) reprinted by permission Legal Studies Forum Lawyers & Poets Far Travels KORNEL KOSSUTH _____________________________ Ballad of the Fig-Tree In marble rooms, in Greece, a Queen Once lived. Among the rows Of haughty columns burning white Hers was a different glow. Outside the toothed and guarded walls, High on a limestone cliff, A fig-tree stood, its twisted trunk stooped low, its branches stiff. About that cliff the vicious wind Incessantly would whirr And edge, with claws it mauled the ground - The fig-tree did not stir. The Queen was gifted with a voice Like ointment or barbed arrows. While she sang the birds-amazed, Ashamed-broke off their shallow Song and manned around her every Parapet and ridge. To hear her singing people came In flocks on pilgrimage. She sang to greet the fingered dawn, She sang in stagnant heat, She sang as clouds rushed the sun away, She sang the night to sleep. She never tired of singing for It hid from her as well Beneath her voice a knifeblade turned She couldn't tame or quell. [421]
She sang while walking to the cliff Where none could see or hear Her as she knelt to water the tree With scraps of songs and tears. Despite her voice, for all the flow The tree grew not a leaf: It stayed skeletal though her song In all things life released. Some say that while she sang the lame Would dance along in tune, The milky eyes of blind men saw As clear as burning noon. The wounded's patchwork skin they said Stopped bleeding while she sang, And gently ropes caressed the necks Of men they tried to hang. Her song sowed thoughts, Utopias, Some fell on fertile ground, The taverns filled with politics And dreams and angry sounds. ‡ They gathered where they wouldn't hear Her painfully cool voice: Around the fig-tree stood the King With Ministers of choice. They huddled close like sheep in rain At loss at what to do, Repeating, 'How to deal with the Queen?' The Chancellor was the first one to Provide a sensible solution, 'Exile from the nation.' The High Priest only backed his horse, 'Excommunication!' [422]
The Prince suggested prison walls For life and one more day. The King refused, 'Her voice,' he said, 'Would melt the stones away.' The problem was they couldn't let Her simply disappear, So they agreed to rig a trial: An uninspired idea. With robes and wigs and witnesses They took the Queen to court. 'Is it true,' the Judge inquired, 'What these men report? 'Did you sing to that bare tree To bring it into bud?' 'I watered the sickly roots,' she said. 'You'll water them with blood!' Guards bound her hands, guards brought her out, Guards flanked the way from court To cliff, but the people stayed behind Barred doors of their own accord. She didn't curse the fig-tree for Its role in her ordeal. She held her hair to bare her neck And knelt to taste the steel. ‡ High on a limestone cliff in Greece The tree to this day stands, Reaching up towards the sky Like two exultant hands. When through its leaves the warm wind stirs Her song you still can hear, And should you pluck and eat its fruit, Your tongue will taste her tears. [423]
Kornel Kossuth grew up in England and Austria. After seven years as a lawyer in Vienna, Kossuth is now training to become an English teacher in Canterbury. |
