Songs and Satires - LightNovelsOnl.com
You're reading novel online at LightNovelsOnl.com. Please use the follow button to get notifications about your favorite novels and its latest chapters so you can come back anytime and won't miss anything.
WHAT YOU WILL
April rain, delicious weeping, Washes white bones from the grave, Long enough have they been sleeping.
They are cleansed, and now they crave Once more on the earth to gather Pleasure from the springtime weather.
The pine trees and the long dark gra.s.s Feed on what is placed below.
Think you not that there doth pa.s.s In them something we did know?
This spell--well, friends, I greet ye once again With joy--but with a most unuttered pain.
THE CITY
The Sun hung like a red balloon As if he would not rise; For listless Helios drowsed and yawned.
He cared not whether the morning dawned, The brother of Eos and the Moon Stretched him and rubbed his eyes.
He would have dreamed the dream again That found him under sea: He saw Zeus sit by Hera's side, He saw Haephestos with his bride; He traced from Enna's flowery plain The child Persephone.
There was a time when heaven's vault Cracked like a temple's roof.
A new hierarchy burst its sh.e.l.l, And as the sapphire ceiling fell, From stern Jehovah's mad a.s.sault, Vast s.p.a.ces stretched aloof:
Great blue black depths of frozen air Engulfed the soul of Zeus.
And then Jehovah reigned instead.
For Judah was living and Greece was dead.
And Hope was born to nurse Despair, And the Devil was let loose.
Far off in the waste empyrean The world was a golden mote.
And the Sun hung like a red balloon, Or a bomb afire o'er a barrac.o.o.n.
And the sea was drab, and the sea was green Like a many colored coat.
The sea was pink like cyclamen, And red as a blus.h.i.+ng rose.
It shook anon like the sensitive plant, Under the golden light aslant.
The little waves patted the sh.o.r.e again Where the restless river flows.
And thus it has been for ages gone-- For a hundred thousand years; Ere Buddha lived or Jesus came, Or ever the city had place or name, The sea thrilled through at the kiss of dawn Like a soul of smiles and tears.
When the city's seat was a waste of sand, And the hydra lived alone, The sound of the sea was here to be heard, And the moon rose up like a great white bird, Sailing aloft from the yellow strand To her silent midnight throne.
Now Helios eyes the universe, And he knows the world is small.
Of old he walked through pagan Tyre, Babylon, Sodom destroyed by fire, And sought to unriddle the primal curse That holds the race in thrall.
So he stepped from the Sun in robes of flame As the city woke from sleep.
He walked the markets, walked the squares, He walked the places of sweets and snares, Where men buy honor and barter shame, And the weak are killed as sheep.
He saw the city is one great mart Where life is bought and sold.
Men rise to get them meat and bread To barter for drugs or coffin the dead.
And dawn is but a plucked-up heart For the dreary game of gold.
"Ho! ho!" said Helios, "father Zeus Would never botch it so.
If he had stolen Joseph's bride, And let his son be crucified The son's blood had been put to use To ease the people's woe."
"He of the pest and the burning bush, Of locusts, lice, and frogs, Who made me stand, veiling my light, While Joshua slaughtered the Amorite, Who blacked the skin of the sons of Cush, And builded the synagogues."
"And Jehovah the great is omnipotent, While Zeus was bound by Fate.
But Athens fell when Peter took Rome, And Chicago is made His hecatomb.
And since from the hour His son was sent The hypocrite holds the state."
Helios traversed the city streets And this is what he saw: Some sold their honor, some their skill, The soldier hired himself to kill, The judges bartered the judgment seats And trafficked in the law.
The starving artist sold his youth, The writer sold his pen; The lawyer sharpened up his wits Like a burglar filing auger bits, And Jesus' vicar sold the truth To the famished sons of men.
In every heart flamed cruelty Like a little emerald snake.
And each one knew if he should stand In another's way the dagger-hand Would make the stronger the feofee Of the coveted wapentake.
There's not a thing men will not do For honor, gold, or power.
We smile and call the city fair, We call life lovely and debonair, But Proserpina never grew So deadly a pa.s.sion flower.
Go live for an hour in a tropic land Hid near a sinking pool: The lion and tiger come to drink, The boa crawls to the water's brink, The elephant bull kneels down in the sand And drinks till his throat is cool.
Jehovah will keep you awhile unseen As you lie behind the rocks.
But go, if you dare, to slake your thirst, Though Jesus died for our life accursed Your bones by the tiger will be licked clean As he licks the bones of an ox.
And the sky may be blue as fleur de lis, And the earth be tulip red; And G.o.d in heaven, and life all good While you lie hid in the underwood: And the city may leave you sorrow free If you ask it not for bread.
One day Achilles lost a horse While the pest at Troy was rife, And a million maggots fought and ate Like soldiers storming a city's gate, And Thersites said, as he looked at the corse, "Achilles, that is life."
Day fades and from a million cells The office people pour.
Like bees that crawl on the honeycomb The workers scurry to what is home, And trains and traffic and clanging bells Make the canon highways roar.
Helios walked the city's ways Till the lights began to s.h.i.+ne.
Then the janitor women start to scrub And the Pharisees up and enter the club, And the harlot wakes, and the music plays And the gla.s.ses glow with wine.
Now we're good fellows one and all, And the buffet storms with talk.
"The market's closed and trade's at end We had our battle, now I'm your friend."
And thanks to the spirit of alcohol Men go for a ride or walk.
Oh but traffic is not all done Nor everything yet sold.
There's woman to win, and plots to weave, There's a heart to hurt, or one to deceive, And bargains to bind ere rise of Sun To garner the morrow's gold.
The market at night is as full of fraud As the market kept by day.
The courtesan buys a soul with a look, A dinner tempers the truth in a book, And love is sold till love is a bawd, And falsehood froths in the play.