Once upon a time
there was a lonely wolf
lonelier than the angels.
He happened to come to a village.
He fell in love with the first house he saw.
Already he loved its walls
the caresses of its bricklayers.
But the windows stopped him.
In the room sat people.
Apart from God nobody ever
found them so beautiful
as this child-like beast.
So at night he went into the house.
He stopped in the middle of the room
and never moved from there any more.
He stood all through the night, with wide eyes
and on into the morning when he was beaten to death.
—Janos Pilinszky (trans. Ted Hughes)