Birth and Death of Angels

I Magical Fruit Prologue: Legend Hills clung with purple mist To brown and russet swathe Of wintered branch; Water hastening down stone A copper green, Flows with incontinent seethe Across the lichened rust Of a winter valley Where it folds Into a legend of ore and dust. O Seasons, O Castles (A translation of Arthur Rimbaud’s O saisons, O Châteaux) O seasons, o castles, What soul is faultless? O seasons, o castles I have made a magic study Of happiness, there for everybody. O long life! and rejoicings Each time the French cockerel sings. I shall have nothing to desire My life in its life entire. Its charm! steals body and soul And dissolves me all. What can my words reply? It makes them flee and fly! O seasons, o castles! Angels Lonely voices in the dark Angels Dream light from flesh The day is theirs And the night Angels Entrance the hours The secrets And the sadness of the evening Angels Fall from dangerous heavens Rejoicing in flight A bright rain of fire In the night! Angels Angels are lovers Fuego I Voces solitarias en la noche Angeles La luz es sueños arrancados De su carne El día es su día La noche es suya Angeles Encantan las horas Los secretos Y la tristeza de la tarde Al caerse de cielos peligrosos Se alegran du su vuelo ¡Brillante lluvia de fuego En la noche! Apple Blossom From the apple blossom There is promise, At night its smell is richer And its promise dearer Especially by moonlight. Her hands are rinsed In that perfume, Her breasts smell like flowers Her orchard tenderness Is dark and fiery as eclipse. Birth Born In the hospital bed Shaking like a womb-expulsed Infant He cradles And rocks himself out of pain. Love He was in love with the slight Curly-haired nurse In the striped uniform- Her name was Agnes, lamb- Who lifted him from The steaming bath and held him In her arms. Borne In her arms He would give birth So much he loves life He would open his legs and thrust A girl-child out, with golden hair And silver dreams Birth Easy as the leafing of birch trees In April. Love The day is long The night is held In a million hearts The sky flashes The rain thunders With a voice that aches But still the belly hungers For birth And the mouth thirsts For love. Fuego II En sus brazos Nacido Daría a luz Tanto quiere la vida Abría las piernas y empujaría Fuera una niña, con pelo De fuego dorado, Y sueños de plata Innocente Nacimiento tan fácil Como el echar hojas De los árboles En abril. Un millón de corazones Abrazan la noche Se rompe la rama Truena la lluvia Con voz de pena Fuego y estrellas Cantan Estamos vivos ¡Estamos vivos! Todavía la barriga Tiene ansias de nacimiento Y la boca sed De amor. Magical Fruit She has everything To offer him Magical fruit, Desire never grows cold. She gives him everything Her orchard holds Magical fruit, Desire never grows old. Where leaves and sap enfold, She is his sweetest song Magical fruit, Desire grows bold In her branches he embraces all heavens, Magical fruit, Desire untold. The stars, she says, are for him Magical fruit, His root is in her, Desire is gold. Luz No sé Y no quiero saber Donde se apaga la luz. No sé Y no quiero saber Donde la luz se muere. No sé Y no quiero saber. Amor Mis ojos nacieron para ti Donde tu estás Hay luz Donde no estás Yo no sé Y no quiero saber Como vivir. We were there (For Joan) I We were there When the reign of stars Announced the birth of days We were there! We were there When the first light Of innumerable dawns Sprang to life in lovers’ eyes We were there! We were there When hearts discovered tongues Torn with tenderness And tangled words and tangled sounds Made sense of emptiness We were there! We were there And dreamt our dreams Face to face with the first Death of Sun And the first longing for tomorrows We were there! We were there Where the serpent’s kiss Envelops the moon And hopes drop dead At the feet of time We were there! We were there Running naked to our first bed In which the entire cosmos Of earth and fire, of air and light Melded In one unforgettable moment Of comfort and forgiveness We were there! We were there Born from the stars that cradled us We were there! We were there And did not regret Not a single moment! In all the time I’ve known you Even your bitterness has been sweet Where you are I want to be! II Sheltered star- Windswept star- Whatever you are Believe me! I was born to be with you I was born Black wind swirling to black dawn Black fruit falling from black trees Black heart awash with black dreams Till you awakened the light in me And I was born. I was born The boards creaked And groaned with salt water The course was set There was an Albatross Around my neck To drag me down. I have been drowned But return to the dead Never will I- Not after you. I was born, born Ranting, grasping, heaving With birth I was born, born, born To be with you- Sheltered star Windswept star Whatever you are. Bright, bright, bright Chain around my heart. Autumn Birth Dearest Love The birth of days Was slow Unfolding From the dark ways Of the inglorious past. When I met you The darkness of time Flashed bright And light did a dance With warm beauty In the heart of the world There has never been a sweeter song Of tender fear And tremulous beginning Not before, not ever Then and now You were the golden birth Of new time You were all the world had been creating Unknown to me You were all I could never imagine The Unimagined Waiting for me. Green and gold You entered my life With new life New light for a new world The transfigured past Stood still And one autumn evening One September day You fell from the tree of heaven Like an apple Into my hands. No quiero más que verte Tengo la libertad De querer o no querer Y no hago nada ¿Qué libertad es que no me deja La libertad De liberarme? Tengo la libertad De ir hacia la luz o hasta la oscuridad No hago nada ¿Qué libertad es que no me deja La libertad De liberarme? Tengo la libertad Y no quiero más que verte Y tengo que esperar Tengo la libertad Y ya lo sé la vida es más que sueño Tengo la libertad Tengo que verte antes de morir. The Eyes Of Stars My eyes tell me. I thought I had escaped From every snare my heart had lain But trapped and out of breath I know the same old pain This has to be the last time The angels fall This has to be the last time I’m prisoner to a name This has to be the last time I can’t bear the thought of you- This has to be the last time Dead eyes stare out of a purblind mirror This has to be the last time Love was never like this In the eyes of stars. Inalcanzable Imposible amor Quiero morir bajo tu luna Imposible amor La vida no es fantasía Imposible amor Te llamo ¡inalcanzable! ¿Qué haces con tus sueños? Imposible amor No hay nadie que no te conoce Imposible amor Te llamo ¡inalcanzable! The Apple Her mouth was made to eat fruit The apple when she touches it Urges itself open To admit her tongue She subdues with her lips the skin Tears soft with her teeth The white of flesh And though the core is hidden It yields her ingress And breaks for her, sweet as sin, Deep in penetration, Though the seed is black within. Deep in penetration, Though the seed is black within. Winter Gold We live in her light When she appears Our darkness breaks Free The night Is loosened From around our throat The cold Seeps out of us Flowers spring From our winter root She is the seed and the shoot Of our efflorescence She is the mouth and the tooth That tears our naked Luminous fruit See Will she pluck us? If we sing tonight? The Orchard She is always the same Mystery. Today she is golden haired, At the edge of the artificial lake, Dressed in black like a mourning Venus. In Florence, she wore ear-rings Ellipses of light, So sophisticated, She was sacred and profane, Totally pure, even when whore. In the orchard, She bore, The fragrance of apples, Ending paradise, With her lips. Fingerprints Left In Eden. The morning rises with you Sharp sunlight in dewy grass Shines bright like bladed glass Under the careful tread of your bare feet Though I know the map of your bones You have left nothing in my bed Only remembrances- It is never enough I long to touch the light That is your light I long to rise and follow… But you are gone. Through the arms of the apple trees You sweep like a dancer silently And your silence cuts Through the shadows Like a song While I, I My dreams broken spill From torn sleep Like red rock out of a fissure Falling falling falling With nothing to hold on to. Let me tell you I want to be the tree You throw yourself around And crush so tight Its light is crushed in your arms. It’s not for nothing I call you Eve, Hands clasped to the bark In the first light Of aching desire. Afterwards I will find it And discover Your touch Fingerprints left in Eden And I swear I will never forget you! How could I? (First published in the Anchor Books anthology Snowflake Kiss, March 2002) II The Rose Golden Apple There is a path that goes to the Orchard Goes back to the earliest of memories To the time when children played there When their lives were like flowers and fruit When a woman’s voice perfumed like flowers Sweet like fruit Called them back home through the dusk With one name only remaining there Painfully daggered in tree’s bark Her name, Eve’s Golden, her arms reaching above her head To pull the golden apple down And offer it to her Adam Her boyish clown. Girlish Lyric I A sky hazed white with heat With birds langourously Aglide she sees; Flying emblems adrift on The air beneath Followed with a child’s eye And with a child’s heartbeat From garden into field Motes in a glass Orbit of air and light, a child’s space. Girlish Lyric II Watched her make a child’s graph With a child’s abstraction From simple place; Spilling wet from dew-soaked grass As she treads blades Of silvered green in a curve Made of childish fashion Through the first forlorn estate Of her first stage Of freedom, of imagining, of knowledge. Cradle Child Her arms are folded to cradle child Swinging emptily as she strides along the road Her eyes are black with night And in her head there is the singing of a lullaby It is the Springtime And she has just learned to spell love in a copybook And it has given her hunger for birth. The Rose Remember The gift of a wild rose That grew in a small boy’s back-garden She took it In her small girl’s hands And it grew there, longing for birth. Long after she cut it And held it to her skin Where it had the feverish beauty Of her sex in flower She made it her secret And kept it in her bedroom Where it flourished Fed on young woman’s dreams, longing for life. Later her lover brought it in From the rain And shook its raindrops over her Then her sex was like a rose Shaken by the rain A gift of love From a small boy’s back-garden Remember. Birdsong You spread your wings out of the shadowed morning The dawn is gentle with you As you begin your flight And sweep across the light Your night dreams fall from you Like a dress falling To gather at the feet of the earth In a mound of secret colours Of secret shadows and tenderness Where the sunrise does not touch nor dispel regret. You made love in the darkness Giving yourself to its nakedness Where it pinioned and broke you With sweetness Crushed nostalgia in your thighs Speaking to you of birth and births Your voice heard and responded With a thousand tremors. Nothing could have shaken it more As sleep gathered you in its dreams And released you like a bird. III Love Song Morning Sunlight Morning sunlight Her golden hair Trembles with the breath Of the summer wind. A purple crocus Sheets twisted and stained From love-making. The wind shakes the trees The heart beats In anticipation of a birth. Restless Birds A woman’s mouth With her smile She delighted One moment of my life. The smell of candles flaming As she moves Silk dances around her feet. Her hands Like restless birds And in the starry night The moon is rising. Emerald Green Shadowed light Sensing someone is watching her She turns, catlike. Silence Her dreams are secret and mysterious As shadows on the moon. Emerald green Her flesh flowers inside The curves of her dress Soft, loving breasts. Tenderness One could lie in the crease Of her palm And melt there in its warmth. Fullness Her dreams Soon it will be Easter When the wakened earth flowers. Cherry She took my hand In the corner of a dry field A flowering Cherry. She lay down Like summer upon a grassy field One day in June. Her dress falls to her feet Her hand pulling a white-petalled flower From a low branch. Falling rain The light lies broken over cloud In the west. The moon is gone from the sky Her glance is shadowy and tender As an ending. Mother The voice of a child In the morning The bedroom Is bright with sun. Her hair golden Poppies crown her Sunlight follows her. A mother singing Flowers shaking and dancing In the sunlit wind. I am so afraid of losing the wonder (A translation of Lorca’s Tengo Miedo De Perder La Maravilla) I am so afraid of losing the wonder Of your eyes like a statue’s, and the accent Set on my cheek at night By the solitary rose of your breathing. It hurts me to be on this river’s edge A tree without branches; what hurts me more Is to have no flower, pulp or clay For the snail of my suffering. If you are my hidden treasure, If you are my cross and my moist pain If I am the dog of your domain Do not let me lose what I have gained But dress the water of your river With the fallen leaves of my estranged autumn. Time and Silence Time and silence A hard frost Covers the still earth. Night and dreams Moonlight falls In the deserted garden Solitude. Foreboding In the spring The pink cherry flower Is broken from the bud. A friend dies A yellow Iris stands alone In a black vase. It is still spring. Sanctuaries She embraces And is embraced By dream. Shadows Shadows have come to the trees Resting in the arms of the cherry Translating a dusty memograph Years hence Through the lens of a camera For a moment proud of who he is As the shutter snaps. A name is cut in the skin of this one, The same one as he sits on Angela, growing black with age, Like a fingered, blackened prayer, Who was she, and to whom, Scribing an anguished flesh in bark, Was she speechless love? If I were he, I would have wrote: In the Spring I will bear you flowers. In Darkness A woman sleeping At night The earth is heavy With memory. Her face half in shadow An aftermath of dream The breath of nostalgia. The day is ending A voice in darkness Soft as lovers parting. A broken song The endless, starry night The dark Universe. One Night’s Dreams It was the time Of condolences And the sea was bitter In the gardens The flowers had been bitten By a sudden snap Her hands could not bear To touch them Even to see them die Was too cruel She had nurtured them To see them broken So much for life And the fragile beauty Of living things That could not outlast One night’s dreams. The Winter Sings of Death The cold has broken the skin Of her hands and face. This winter is the harshest It sings of death And has forgotten its stars Forgotten there are dreams In the old lady’s heart. Clouds Passing Clouds passing Footsteps at night Echoing down an empty corridor. Taurus Little Bull Has no horns Little Bull. Time has slipped you From its hull Of dreams And swept you on To further stars And fiercer hearts Than ours could be. Little bull, Sleeping bull Or dreaming. The little bull is dead And as with each death The Universe is emptied A little more. Life does not know what it has missed And will not miss what it Has never known- Safe in our dreams We see the dead. Flowers A child’s golden head The earth is broken and from its wounds Flowers grow. Yellow Iris A door is closed She is full of laughter Suddenly Gone silent- Memories A yellow Iris lies In her empty lap Stranded- Voices Her heart is full With remembered past This evening- Darkening The clock speaks each second Clearly, distinctly Relentlessly- Helpless She too would like to speak But her words have the silence Of dead ones- Love lost The word birth in her womb Stirs at the touch Of her heart breaking. Love Song Flor Amor Algo escondido Casi olvidado Que surge por casualidad Luz que tiene La imposible ternura de un beso Perdido La imposible tristeza de un nombre de mujer Que no se puede decir. Flor Amor Tú. In the Darkness of the Unknown A Flower raises its Light Towards the New! Tomorrow A Dream A dream In the night A woman’s voice Intangible as her perfume. Tomorrow A moment of tenderness Revives from the still past. IV Troubled Dreams Crashing Through Twilight The court sits Noises come through walls of wood Trees dimly lit leap from darkness The sound of steel twisting Tangles in the night time. What did you see in the evening light? Bodies broken and car strife- What did you see in the newborn night? The judge upon a pedestal Mallet in hand Crashing through twilight. Sueños Vivo en un país sin color Salvo el que viene A traves de los sueños De los casi muertos Que se ven por aquí Arrastrándose por las calles Al levantar los ojos Al sonreír sin esperanza Se ven por aquí Los sueños de los muertos Que por aquí Se arrastran por las calles Querida, querida, Querida, Van hacia la mar Hacia la mar se van Ofrecerse a la hija de la mar O ahogarse. Night Time There was a night without moon Without stars Black night hooded beast Eating the dark apple of the earth… Someone’s soul hung on branches howled Howled Like a cur dying Stirring him out of sleep ‘Quiet boy, quiet boy,’ he whispered And turned back to darkness Six hours before the bells ring Six hours with death hanging round our necks Like a rosary beads. Sick in his prayers he covers his mouth… What shall he say about himself And his nightmare? Turning to her sleeping as always Happy with the world… ‘When I am alone I die!’ But she does not hear, never hears And he longs to bestride the morning If it ever comes Here it comes! Arise, Adam Sleep is ended Dreams are mended Heart racked and rended Soul torn untended Silence befriended The night is over Death comes knocking at the door Hissing like a snake Scream at the daylight And be at peace. Mother Darkness The darkness of a mother The earth secret in winter This evening the birds are silent And the grasses voiceless in the rain. In the night there will be the old nostalgia For dreams touching her sleep like a fretful hand, It is always past something when she looks at the clock. When she was young her imagination was like a fire Suddenly caught flame, and time was ripe. Tomorrow is a word broken upon her lap, Empty as her sex is. No more children. No more dreams, no more shouts of joy. In the night there will be the same yearnings, And her body curled up like a foetus- And her bed as perfect as the grave. Mysteries An old man with barbed wire coiled Around his hands like a rosary beads Cannot wipe sweat from his forehead For fear of tearing his eyes out Loses himself in prayers. River of darkness, river of light River of day, river of night Downriver the corpses float smiling Under a cold burning television sun There must have been ten thousand Remembered in the priest’s prayers When he said: Pray for the dead Ten thousand dead In the river of darkness, river of light On the horizon angels stand, spear in hand On the horizon, not on the land, Where the dreamless stand in wonderland Mocking each other Mysteries come, mysteries go But we remain under the stars, what a laugh! A man with barbed wire coiled round his hands Like a rosary beads Eats an apple, dreaming of Eve The only lover he ever had, And the only temptation Oh for some forbidden fruit, Oh for some forbidden fruit, Strains the barbed wire tight round his heart. There’s famine in the far-off television hills Every born man, woman and child knows hunger Flies buzz in the lips of prayers, And God weeps in the throat of a woman. On the death of Francis Stuart (Irish writer Francis Stuart’s novel A Hole in the Head was a hymn to the power of the imagination. This poem was written a couple of years before his death and was published in the letters page of the Sunday Tribune shortly after he died.) On the death of Francis Stuart Heads will turn loose Tired formulas Tired as the tired formulas Of tired books And say: We have lost now The power of imagination Of a hole in the head And why were we ever content With defunct dreams When we had a hole in the head To set his books Crackling like a stick of dynamite Between our ears? Heads will turn Heads will fall In the game of pitch And toss the critics play There is no repentence. It will be too late. Heads you think you win But Heads you lose Time has stolen away What you never knew you needed The risk of pain. So sing it: You need Francis Stuart like you need A hole in the head Sing it: Everybody needs a hole in the head Everybody needs a hole in the head Before it’s too late Before it’s too late A hole in the head A hole in the head Before it’s too late A hole in the head. Before it’s too late. On the Death of José y Ciria de Escalante (A translation of Lorca’s En la Muerte de José De Ciria Y Escalante) Who will say I saw you, and in what moment? Such agony of burning shadow! Two voices speaking: the clock and the wind While the morning rises without you. A delirium of ashen nard Drowns your sweet head O Friend! Passion! Anguished light! Memento. Come back moon and heart of nothing. Come back moon: with my own hand I will throw your apple into the turbid river Full of gold fish and summer. And you, above, so high, green and cold, Forget me! And forget the vain world Sweet Giocondo, friend. Lamentation (A translation of Lorca’s Casida Del Llanto) I have closed the balcony doors To silence grief Yet behind closed doors Nothing is heard but grief. Very few angels are singing Very few dogs barking A thousand violins lie in the palm of my hand But grief is an enormous dog Grief is an enormous angel Grief is an enormous violin Tears muzzle the wind And nothing is heard but grief. A Hole in Heaven I stand up I sit down I stand up I sit down I stand up I sit down Until I am tired of standing up Until I am tired of sitting down I stand up I run around the room I run out of the room I run back into the room I run through the room I stand up I sit down I stand up I sit down I stand up I sit down Until I am tired of standing up Until I am tired of sitting down There must be a hole in heaven The Angels fell through There must be a hole in heaven But what can I do? Sometimes From ever-recurring time to Ever-recurring time I feel in all my senses Abandonment. There must be a hole in heaven And nothing I can do. I stand up I sit down I stand up I sit down I stand up I sit down Until I am tired of standing up Until I am tired of sitting down So hard these days to feel alive! The Flat Earth Because the earth is flat I will not leave dry land Because the earth is flat I will not stand at horizon’s end Where space dips down to emptiness Because the earth is flat I will not love you Because the earth is flat Because everyone says the earth is flat Because everyone says the earth is flat Because the earth is flat I intend staying at home Where all I need to fear is rain And the garden has such comfortable borders And the neighbours’ eyes approve my every move As they clap each other’s back and scream If only I had my freedom back The good old explorer days, hah! You, I and Columbus Drunk in a tumbling haze, Drunk as children gazing at the moon. Those were the days If only we had them back If only the earth wasn’t flat If only we could fly to the corners Of the Universe and say, I live! Then turn back, then turn back! If only the earth wasn’t flat! But I see it in your eyes Dreams collapsing like imploding stars In the heart of some vulture midnight Dead hopes hanging from a tree somewhere Like some lynched dreamer… Dogs barking at the faraway stars Furious to catch each flaming meteorite We could escape the flat world, they bark If it wasn’t flat, if only it wasn’t flat. Now it’s time for tea and more tea In the flat world Now it’s time to eat some cake and choke Now it’s time to take a bath and drown Now it’s time to go to bed and suffocate Now it’s time in the flat world Now it’s time to read and write Now it’s time to scratch and bite Now it’s time to love and lie Now it’s time to marry and die Now it’s time, now it’s too late Now it’s time in the flat world Now it’s time to pluck out your eyes And put them on a plate Now it’s time, now it’s time in the flat world Between you and heaven to settle Your pact of darkness. Topless Topless, headless, rootless I have nowhere to fall to Nowhere to fall from. I have neither earth nor air To hold on to Nor earth nor air To hold on to me. I am ready to surrender To my own abandonment I am ready to surrender To the emptiness of the moment Not wanted I will not resist When you move away- Eden was like this A woman’s smile turned towards a serpent A man on his knees craving temptation If only we had sons to support us And not kill each other If only we had dreams. When I wake I see the light Dawn light, morning light, The light of hope. I swerve I swerve I swerve like an out-of-control car Through the light of days Smiling on all and sundry Seeking the meaningful gesture That will kill me. I see it in your eyes, in your face, In your hands. I am no fool I know! I know hidden things I know you will leave me I know you will be gone soon. And I know there is nothing I can do And so I go out in the morning as you did To die there. And when Adam left Eve to dig with dry, dead bones In the dry, dead earth And hide The autumn leaves had already fallen. (first published at Catalyzer Journal online 2001) Nada Nada soy Nada sin tí Que no te olvido nada. Pasan las tardes Pasan los inviernos Pasan los soles Pasan los pájaros De todos los sueños Salvajes Que vuelen por tus paisajes. Pasan los mundos Pasan los tiempos Todo se desvanece por el sur De todos los futuros Pasan los futuros Los planetas, estrellas Universos Pasan, pasan Todo desaparece con la gracia De una mujer vestida de negro Una tarde de invierno Tanta belleza que asombra La luz Pasan mujeres, sombras, Pasan las luces Todo se pierde por el sur De todos los amores Pasan los amores, los besos Bellos como flores Pasan los labios Que saben abrir todos los tesoros Hundidos en los cuerpos Perdidos de amantes encendidos Pasan los tesoros Pasan, pasan, pasan Todos pasan Pasan pasan Alegrías, tristezas, fantasmas… ¿Qué hacer con la memoria? ¿Qué recordar? ¿Qué no olvidar? Ya lo sabes Que ya he pasado He pasado todo Y nada soy Nada soy sin tí Nada soy Y no te olvido nada No te olvido Nada soy Y no te olvido Nada. V The Dance with Mother Journey into Darkness The sun toiled Over our days of dreams And we had no respite From our fears of falling But when the sun fell It released us for our journey… And we were happy to enter darkness. We had to wait till night For the stars to shine on us! The Dance with Mother A Battle Dream, Soldier On! Earth and Heaven nearly One! Earthsong Journeysong Swansong! The Earth’s Desire for Heaven! All the Bad Things have been done! All the Good Songs have been sung! The Dance with Mother just begun! The Dance with Mother just begun! All the Good Songs have been sung! All the Bad Things have been done! The Battle is Over, the War is Won! The Earth in Love with Heaven! The Right Seed in the Right Season! And the Dance with Mother The Dance with Mother The Dance with Mother… just begun! Here is tomorrow Here is tomorrow All bright newness A dance of stars Dancing bright to the music Of the Universe. Here is tomorrow Magical fruit Hung upon a tree of heaven blue Shot through with the searching desire Of some fiery comet. Here is tomorrow Gold and silver, Sparkling true Flickering jewels In the bed of night’s singing river. Here is tomorrow The dawn leaps Across a myriad mysteries And a myriad dreams While Time still sleeps. Here is tomorrow The call of a lover Under the sheltering skies That nest in the spreading wings Of Forever. Here is tomorrow We have been waiting For the breaking of shadows The shadows break Where Time lies dreaming Here is tomorrow The Heart taking flight To the Horizon’s hold Of dancing stars And dancing starlight. Here is tomorrow Dream and dance! Here is tomorrow J’attends toujours le petit miracle! Holding in its hands Your future! Duras I knew there was pain but pain was not aching Tom Verlaine We have not slept, not really… All dream, this dream This hunger Which urges us to Duras! Under the pale sky The sleepless trees Caress of leaf Kiss of Moon Eyes seeking stars Duras! The sky falls Shower of flame In the heat of desire Rising again Love, peace, beauty, truth The path of life Duras! Duras! Duras! Around the next corner… A heartbeat away… Duras! Duras! Our Duras! The Way (For filmmaker Richard Horn, in memory of many adventures) Where did the Search begin? Under the snows of the Sierra Or climbing a steep hill above Dublin? The Path can be traced from the sands of the Sahara To the eclipse of lovers in a hotel room in Mexico. Where did it begin and where is it going? Who went before and who is following? We wished to know the right way, everyone said it’s in you! It could be Paris, Florence, Madrid or Rome, or a thousand different places. It could be any one or all of a thousand different faces… It has a strange pattern, can’t you see? Like an imprint of stars on a hillside near Granada Waiting, wanting to be read Like the secret scripture of the Alhambra… Like Heaven exiled in the Alpujarra Like when Richard said ‘the dream is possible’ Making the film of all our lives, the ones we had lived And the ones we had wanted to live… The possible and the impossible Rolling drunk on the floor of a bar in Cordoba. How we will remember it! We had so many friends then, and so many days Each one giving birth to a thousand new suns We had studied magic and we were happy! Ripe for journey, we longed for summers without rain We thought we would go South again! That summer all the world was falling South Andalucia fell in soft folds of skirt from the waist of Spain Its name, like a woman’s, enchanted us Knowing what it is like to love again… In our hearts we had Jasmine for Remembrance In our eyes the promise of Pomegranate We were ready for anything Who knows what the journey will bring, if we dance and if we sing? Who knows the flower of our desiring? We have travelled far but nothing is far to the traveller who dreams… Do you remember the wild birds that flew to the moon to die? They did not stop, not even for the sea… There must be a way It is in us or beyond us… Let’s hope we find it! The Journey On his Journey Wave upon Wave Held him from breaking In the Heart of Oceans. He held his Faith in Stars Even as the Heavens crushed The timber of his Dreams To a residue of Dust. Live, life, live, life, the Waters sang From the depths of a drowning world Live life, still believing, Soldier On! There was Time and no Time All and Nothing to be done All the Bad Things had been said All the Good Songs had been sung. A Birth each breath of Ocean, A Death each sigh of Star, The Universe a Woman Torn between Peace and War. Love, life, love, life, the Winds sang Over the darkness of a Dying World. Love, life, still believing, Journey On! It was the Beginning And the End The Lights flickering in Harbour Called the Sailor to his Bed Her Arms reached out to embrace The Ship of the Living, the Ship of the Dead! He sang to each! O Planets, Sing Me! Music, Dance, and Harmony! O Planets, melodiously! One more song for Mother! Birth Day (For singer-songwriter Thom Moore on his birthday, December 6th 2002) The heavens wheel A rim of stars on the shoulders of Atlas Lost in his own immensity of darkness. Labouring against the days of stone. Hers was sweeter labour Under the starry hulk Of all space and time That plied her like an ocean liner En route for unknown territories, The daring dream of some brave navigator. How could she know she had given birth to you? The Universe. Only between myth, magic and reality Your feet tread the planets she made for you… While your head sleeps dreaming in her starry lap. And when you wake, you sing and sing… And set her heart tingling! Like it did when you danced on the kitchen floor For her! For her! O Mother! The whole world was entering winter With a coat of ice and sleet on its back Hunched over fires blazing Like yellow gorse aflame on a Monaghan hillside The mind turning in its circles of meditation The heart yearning for the warmth of a song. A horse on a sliding road struggled against snow Hoping for its master’s quiet command And the promise of home before nightfall Nestling in the shelter of old Sligo. In a country cottage the striking-up of some country band The musicians’ fingers tangling with the strings of their instruments Plucking playful, plangent melodies from the labyrinth of notes Like quiet snowflakes falling, so gorgeous, so bright… falling… Falling… on and on… and on… The legacy of all lives lived everywhere Catalina, Votkinsk, Dublin, the Lebanon… All lives caught in all song. It was the first morning of the first journey The world spun its orbit wide Around the birth of new sun The wind brought a new dawn To the heart of an old, cold season She had travelled so far to give birth. Nothing could still her hunger In the depth of winter A song without a singer! Yearning! Yearning! She had known nothing like this… The sweetest song was that of a baby crying Wild and strong Your voice was her voice singing Your song her song… You were all she could have imagined And all she had ever wanted To tell the distance from near to far From old life to new life, old dream to new dream Old star to new star, and back again… She held you and would hold you All life and love is true… This is what she promised you. You were her promise and her gain… You were worth her every pain, And would be worth it all again! Love is right… she sings… all life is true… Hear it in the windy night! Hear it… in the windy night! Symphony For the evening she dressed in a symphony of sunsets Her hair stole fire from the downfall of stars Planets and comets made lace for her breasts Her thighs pooled rich harmonies of Venus and Mars Her Heavens lay swept with the silk of solar rains Her Universe torn with infinite birth pains All desire subdued with a Traitor’s Kiss The body of the Female in the hands of the Archaeologist. Burning away the palace of starry sky Digging in the flesh of the Universal lie Revealing the nothing Earth has wed A scattering of bones in the caves of the Dead. Swansong of the Stars The stars sing in darkness- Haven’t you heard their swan-song? Nature torn Love foresworn The Universe A Battlefield No more. Is there still a pity To be won? Still some good song To be sung? This broken dream This silence Of all hope Where money and metal Darkness and ritual Have engineered The violation of all Heaven. Is there still a Mother We can pray to? Mother! Mother! I still love you! Farewell (A translation of Lorca’s Despedida) If I die Leave the balcony doors open, A young boy is eating oranges. (From the balcony I see him) The reaper is cutting the wheat. (From the balcony I hear him) If I die Leave the balcony doors open! The Stars Journey Home Death is our Mother And has shed us like stars From the womb of darkness We will return to Her Not because we do not love life But because we cannot live without Her. There is only one Law To calm our desire In skies of deepest blue Be bright one moment then expire Our lives are briefest fire! While She is lovely Forever! She has always been kind to us And will welcome us with a kiss When we return from exile With the map of the Universe In our hearts for Her. Death is our Mother. --- Afterthoughts La Ballade charnelle du Tom Beau Dans les nuits de Tambour Carnavalesques Nous avons secoué Nos vieilles carcasses. C’étaient des nuits chaudes Où brillaient jais et émeraude Au fond des yeux des Morts Qui revenaient… Elle était là… Celle que j’ai toujours adorée La Fille de Saint Sébastien Aux rayons lumineux argentés Qui tombaient de la lune Un baiser sans lacune Qu’elle a pleuré sur ma tombe Etincellente à ses yeux Chaque lettre de mon nom… Les autres ils en riaient De me voir ainsi Avec mes brillants os de défunt squelette Ils se moquaient de mon osseuse tête « Arrêtez de faire la Fête !… » Qu’ils criaient à tue-Tête… Mais j’en avais assez de suivre ce régime De vers… et de sanglots… Je voulais voir autre chose Que la vie en ruines ! Eh, bien… J’ai toujours adoré la viande féminine Et je la chantais quand j’étais en vie La chantais avec mes compagnes de poésie Ceux qui pleuraient avec leur sang De leurs yeux déchirés !… Aveuglés !… Sur des autels en marbre… A l’intérieur d’églises dévastées… Ma damnation !… Ce sont eux en fait qui ont signé ces versets. Alors, toute la nuit Nous avons épié cette fille Celle qui nous faisait rêver… La Fille aux yeux d’Espagne ! La Fille de Saint Sébastien ! C’est elle que tous les Morts désiraient… La Fille de Saint Sébastien dansait… Elle ravissait, elle captivait Que même les Morts bougeaient Même les Morts chantaient… J’y reviens plus De ce rêve de beauté… Ah si vous aviez été là, mon semblable… Qu’auriez-vous pu ?… Devenu vous aussi son prisonnier ?… Nous avons veillé toute la nuit Afin de capter ce bel esprit ! The Love Song of Hermes T Heaven holds him Evenings when the autumn leaf falls Rusted star surrendering to glistering darkness Magical flame Evenings when the autumn leaf falls Slow, dark, fiery, musical… falls. The winter begins to bite as he Rakes together the fallen abundance from the trees In the park making Small but precious Mountains of gathered leaves Each one a swirling Klimt in colour and design Gold for the glittering pocket of his golden mind In his warm voice the alchemy of a song She used to make him sing aloft along Treasure for the boy he was Under her heavenly gaze She who was the love of his days, his moon at night. Ballade solitaire J’étais celui Que la vie avait fui Moi et mes rêves Qu’elle avait détruits Je ne pouvais plus suivre Ni rêve ni ténèbre Mes jours funestes Mes nuits funèbres Le temps n’était pas fait Pour mes regrets Je n’étais que chanson Abandonnée Je trouvais à vrai dire L’Oiseau beau Il était devant ma vie Fier flambeau Il n’était en rien étrange Bien qu’il dérange J’aurais aimé tout dissoudre Sans vicissitude J’aurais aimé de la compagnie Bien humaine, bien rude Mais personne ne voulait parler A l’ancien marinier Là où la rivière Touche enfin à la mer.