“a formidable daimon
indeed
somewhere in our nature
pumping madness
rousing exultation
as we confront the inanimate
sometimes we see
the weaver of the veil
feet unmoving
which is (really)
all"
XXI
So gather we all, at the well
Pouring our grieving minds
Gleaming dreams between our teeth
Cramping jaws not our own, it seems
We are easy prey, cross in hand
Just a mouthful of something
We drink from one, ‘hen to pan’
And everything will be just fine
From the edge of the volcano we hear
Formidable sounds, aching to be real
XXII
Architects of glorious temples
We watch seeds grow into trees
Entranced when she comes
Running down the hill, all changed
She will lessen our fertile pain
And listen, her ecstatic mouth
Smiling like a naked child
Peep, she murmurs, cheeks sleepy red
Hidden high above fearful paths
We cleanse our temples
"tell me, moon goddess,
of how love began
(che vogliamo far di quest'uomo insertato a bestia)
truly, among us all the time
unsmiling
unadorned
unperfumed
reaching through space
the future not what it used to be"
XXIII
Wake the singer
And he, accompanied by his lyre
Sings a sonnet or something similar
Rise and kiss at her command
Sanctioned by sound judgement
He pays homage, in her eyes at least
Trying to escape needs
It is love, I mean the real thing
Wake sleepwalkers
Join this enchanting play
XXIV
You see sleeping eyes
Chiselled time, everlasting sun
Oh, look, now even that is gone
A silver dripping dew process
And later, in swaying flower waves
Lust, until even that desire recedes
What peculiar ringing and singing we hear
Rattling at the great big gate
Are you out or are you in, the guard asks
This is it, then
"the tripod of truth
sits over a volcano
a fire-like truth
of charged dew
dripping with rays
rising warmth
she sits there
tenure of the god
her own seat
so this must be true"
XXV
Love, get it while it lasts
A true spring offering
Our own bluebell carpet
Our stamping ground of pain
Her legs start to glow
In ecstatic, feverish dancing
We record kisses over and over
Drink molten fire, wax lyrical
Get it while it lasts
You know, but still learn
XXVI
We flew far and it was dark
Cold night stirred our hands
There was music, sung by old men
Hymns to Astarte, whirling dancers
It was a dance of adulation
Electric nerve storms raging
While we follow the cursed dead king
O, please stop me, I am so weary
Chasing blindly in the dark
One more hill and it looks over
"to dream of death
is not necessarily bad
says Artemidorus
(who the hell is he)
the dream itself
tells its story,
either the soul alone enjoys it
or it shares it with the body"
XXVII
Dreams close in for the kill
Yah, yah, the heavenly coachman spurs
And billows his many-coloured cloak
Folding obscure decans around us
We daydream of burbling seas and trees
Defenseless small hands clasped
Who can betray the betrayed
After all, we do mix with gods (right)
So, we take that deep breath
And search the light of Canopus
XXVIII
Together, you see, we bathe
In water still like it first was
Round and round we ripple
And rinse our children off
Softly gleaming we change form
No heavenly signs, just tenderness
The old reflection of our faces
Looking beyond our days
A sweet and stern notion
Outside of your reach
"one is all
and by it all
and for it all
and if one does not contain all
all is nothing
(yes, I shall have my supper
now it is time)"
XXIX
We always act as if we dream
A treasure of abundance all around
But, eyes open, we hardly dare believe
Supreme dominion, one mutters
From time till time a memory, ting
Ting, it is all here, the still lake, the volcano
Our sunken temples
Bonds in fathomless deep waters
O look, she, well, she will come
Moving casually among the crowd
XXX
"All the love" my heart rings
Creator of fertile sorrow
Serene I sit here and inhale
Pure remains of heathen passion
No towers, no majesty, but laurels though
Grace in unmarked radiant light
Awaiting one worthy of glory
And later we return to our musing
Here the termination of tempestuous travails
Here the bed; here tranquil repose; here quiet