The Fable About A Nail

By Zbigniew Herbert

For lack of a nail the kingdom has fallen

—according to the wisdom of nursery schools—but in our kingdom

there have been no nails for a long time there aren’t and won’t be

either the small ones for hanging a picture

on a wall or large ones for closing a coffin

but despite this or maybe because of it

the kingdom persists and is even admired by others

how can one live without a nail paper or string

bricks oxygen freedom and whatever else

obviously one can since the kingdom lasts and lasts

people live in homes in our country not in caves

factories smoke on the steppe a train runs through the tundra

and a ship bleats on the cold ocean

there is an army and police an official seal hymn and flag

in appearance everything like anywhere in the world

but only in appearance for our kingdom

is not a creation of nature or a human creation

seemingly permanent built on the bones of mammoths

in reality it is weak as if brought to a stop

between act and thought being and nonbeing

        what is real—a leaf and a stone—falls

        but spectres live long obstinately despite

        the rising and setting of the sun revolutions of heavenly bodies

        on the shamed earth fall the tears of objects