How like a wounded stag
whose blood stains dark his coat
as he flees through familiar forest
and yet can not shake the hurt
which holds close his heart,
does Bernhard his blackboard attend,
scribbling the ancient hieroglyphics
in pirouettes of chalk on slate
before the cold eyes of fiends
which shoot constant arrows of distaste.
How like a wounded stag
whose strength nears final ebb
does Bernhard bed himself down
as night comes on to seek in sleep
some new glow of the flickering coals
that are his life, his loyalty to things sublime,
things obscure: glades green to his eyes alone,
the spirals that falling leaves describe in autumn wind,
mere history, what others hoped and missed.
How like a wounded stag
does Bernhard lack insight to discern
what thrill his hunters get
from seeking his demise,
what delight his death could promise,
what they could want of these woods
that he, living, might be inclined to deny.
He summons up their faces, the one whose hair
is the color of sand, the one whose eyes seem always moist,
the one whose lips are pink and full as berries.
How like a wounded stag
who finds no comfort in the dark
does Bernhard dread the new day,
although he knows nothing precise of it,
only that his scholars will come,
each laggard limb eloquent of dismay,
to launch at him their taunts:
“What is the use of this?” and “This, above all, I do not like”
and “You can not mean to insist…” and “This is cruel”
and “What manner of fool would waste his life on this?”
How like a wounded stag
grown weary of his antlers’ weight
which once was his fiercest pride and joy,
does Bernhard note numbness in his neck,
which must support his head
and all that time and diligence have crammed within.
The hatred of boys who will become men
and do the works of men
is sensual like the lust of hunters
who track blood on snow for sport.
How like a wounded stag
who can not plan
and moves in arcs that start to close
to find a final spot,
does Bernhard long for release
not just from boys’ minds but from their eyes,
If knowledge brings sorrow,
how advocate joy of higher woe
to those attached to what’s below?
As Beast, Bernhard dies to instruct.