Polish Splendor Near the Grand Hôtel des Bains
We walk across the Lido towards the beach
To see the Adriatic, but they’ve blocked
The view. It happens it is hard to reach
Our goal. In several ways the sea is locked
Away from us—with buildings, wall and fence.
Desire is baulked. Desire to be a part
Of beauty is thwarted. Spare no expense!
Society and history hate the heart,
And even when we get a glimpse of waves,
A long heaped up eyesore of rocks is set
Between us and the water. Are there graves
Here on the Lido? Every kind of let
And hindrance is forced against our joy
As Mann yearned after that one unkissed boy.
December 2 and 5, 2014
The first version of this sonnet was written on a sheet of stationery of the Grande Albergo Ausonia & Hungaria Hotel, the Lido, at the writing desk in room 112.