I.
Winds ignore the world in their forceful play
I taste air that hints of cleanliness
Deceptive warmth grows up from the ground
Into the soles of my feet
It is again Spring
Seasons are so blindingly brilliant
Ever changing
I love to watch them
I love to watch them
Change and develop
Change and develop
Yet never grow older
I would that
I could be the same
To be ever twisting ‘round myself
To be ever growing up and out
Yet to be never old and ever new
Yet to be never tired of life
Such would be the True Eternal
The Eternal Truth
My soul cannot be joyful
Without the Numinous
II.
Pondering, I remember
Sadly, as I memorize
The histories
The histories of Earth
That she is slowly growing older
She is not static, as she first seemed to me
She is still young
Yet old, too old
Her childhood is over and her strength is beginning
Like me, she has long ages of memories
Everything is already old to her
Still she has much farther to go
Her strength
Her ambition
Her ruthless, rushing activity
Mask the sorrow of boredom
The sorrow of the curse
Now we can never understand
We can never be joyful
We have not the Numinous
Creating, creating
As the poet promised us
Striving, striving
As the god commanded us
Never ending
Salvation comes to us
But at what cost?
The wait is long
And we will soon be too old
Too old to laugh with fresh air tongues
Too tired to dance intuitively on warm living grass
Too jaded to gasp with wonder at the ceaseless creation
And never gone, never gone
Already we are this way,
The Earth and I
We are already too old
For the Indescribable Firework Show at the End
Now we beg only for rest, for cessation
III.
We watch under our eyelids
With envy, with loathsome desire
That masculine Fire
That masculine Fire that burns up the nations
That burns up the souls of men
So quickly extinguished
And so much light!
An explosion of energy
Like an alchemist’s target
Like the death of a star
Like Lucifer falling, falling
Oh, to live
Wrapped in Sublime
Burning skin and screaming lungs
Screaming lungs and forceful eyes
Forceful eyes and tearing nails
Tearing up the clothes
Burning up the souls of women
Forcing out the pain and beauty
Screaming out the pain and beauty
Screaming until it is all gone
Gone out of the body
And when the body is empty
To cease
This is our desire
O Man of Vivid Death
Do not worship our creation
Do not aspire to strive as we strive
But if you leave your self-absorbed explosion
To think of us at all
Let it be with a moment of pity
Spare a drop of your passionate melancholy
For us who are
Eternal
Friday, March 11, 2005
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