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Diary of a Drug Fiend

Page 80

by Aleister Crowley


  DEDICACE

  You crown me king and queen. There is a name

  For whose soft sound I would abandon all

  This pomp. I liefer would have had you call

  Some soft sweet title of beloved shame.

  Gold coronets be seemly, but bright flame

  I choose for diadem; I would let fall

  All crowns, all kingdoms, for one rhythmical

  Caress of thine, one kiss my soul to tame.

  You crown me king and queen; I crown thee lover!

  I bid thee hasten, nay, I plead with thee,

  Come in the thick dear darkness to my bed.

  Heed not my sighs, but eagerly uncover,

  As our mouths mingle, my sweet infamy,

  And rob thy lover of his maidenhead.

  Lie close; no pity, but a little love.

  Kiss me but once and all my pain is paid.

  Hurt me or soothe, stretch out one limb above

  Like a strong man who would constrain a maid.

  Touch me; I shudder and my lips turn back

  Over my shoulder if so be that thus

  My mouth may find thy mouth, if aught there lack

  To thy desire, till love is one with us.

  God! I shall faint with pain, I hide my face

  For shame. I am disturbed, I cannot rise.

  I breathe hard with this breath; thy quick embrace

  Crushes; thy teeth are agony – pain dies

  In deadly passion. Ah! You come – you kill me!

  Christ! God! Bite! Bite! Ah Bite! Love’s fountains fill me.

  PREFATORY

  SONNET TO THE VIRGIN MARY

  Mother of God! who knowest the dire pangs

  Of childbirth, and has suffered, and dost know

  How utter sweet the full fruit of thy woe,

  And how His heel hath crushed the serpent’s fangs,

  Be with me in the birth of this my book,

  These songs of mine, poor children, like to die;

  Yet, if they may not perish utterly,

  It is to thee for sustenance I look.

  Mother of God! be with me in success,

  Abide with me if peradventure fail

  These faint songs, murmurs of a summer gale

  That my heart clothes within a mortal dress;

  And with thy sympathy, their bliss or bale

  Shall be too light to shake my happiness.

  A FRAGMENT

  Man Hero

  Maid Heroine

  Her Mother

  Count B

  He. Draw nigh, sweet maiden, violets blush at birth,

  Pale lilies tinge with crimson, as the snow

  At dawn’s approach, the pansy’s darksome dye

  Deepens when tender winds blow over it

  And give its beauties to the summer’s gaze:

  So blush at being mine, yet gently come

  And place a dainty hand within my hold

  Too delicate to crush it into warmth,

  Save that blood mantling to thy cheek shall flow

  Back to the fingers, though I press them not.

  And so I will not hesitate to put

  A ring upon thy hand, sweet mystery

  Of Love’s device, to shadow in our hearts

  Th’ Eternity of an immortal self

  That is, and shall be while the stars endure,

  Or while a God of Love is pitiful

  Of all men’s sorrows, and most happy in

  Their joys –

  She. Ah! joys are fleeting! –

  He. But our love

  Is anchored in the portals of the dawn

  Where heaven begins.

  She. And heaven begins with us

  This day. Behold the flowers, whose kindly gaze

  Of modest love is on us as we stand,

  And clasp fond hands before high Heaven to swear

  Truth an eternal bond, no parchment scroll

  Of perishable matter ill devised

  And scored upon with perishable ink,

  But in our pulses’ quick delight to live

  From day to day renewed, as if a fount

  Of God’s mysterious stream, that here a man

  May wet his ankle, and again immerse

  Unto his knees, and yet again assay

  To cross its silver depth and find himself

  Swimming in crystal coldness on a sea

  Broad as God’s mercy and as deep as Love.

  He. And whose strong tide shall bear our spirit out

  Into the ocean of all happiness

  Whose bounds are Heaven.

  She. See! the scythe of Time

  Sweeps on to cut the new-born flowers in twain

  That symbolises the reluctant hour

  In which we met – and now the flower is dead

  And we must part.

  He. Fond hearts, chaste souls, as one

  Whose unity is sacred, still shall dwell

  Together – Not the cold embrace

  Of “We shall meet again”, but let us say

  The ritual of a lover, being this

  “God be with you!”

  She. O heart too dear to me,

  Too much beloved for lover’s tongue to tell,

  God be with you! Farewell, sweet heart!

  He. Farewell.

  (EXEUNT).

  DESUNT CETERA.

  THE RAINBOW

  On land wrought of starlight rain lingers

  In delicate spirals and spines,

  And sunlight’s immaculate fingers

  Creep through the desire of the pines;

  The promise is flashed into being,

  Tremendous and florid and proud,

  To be seen by the eyes of the seeing,

  A bow in the cloud.

  O flamed through the sky as a harlot

  In splendour transcendent and bold,

  With purple and crimson and scarlet

  And azure and olive and gold!

  O melting to magic and mystery,

  As clouds fly to heaven again,

  And holy Hyperion’s history

  Is flashed into rain!

  O Godhead of glory through anguish!

  O Christ shone through Magdalen’s tears!

  Thy sons on the universe languish

  In iron bands strong as the spheres;

  With virtue Thy likeness we cover,

  With priestcraft we mock at Thy power,

  And the meanest on earth is a lover,

  As vile as a flower.

  Come down through the visionless aether,

  And watch for the sprout of the grain

  Hid dark in the wonder beneath her,

  A marvel of passion and pain;

  Smite power from on high into mortals,

  Draw spirit to spirit and nigher,

  That winds burst the wonderful portals

  And tongues as of fire.

  O Life of the stars in their glory,

  O Light of the passionate spring,

  How sweet and supreme is thy story,

  Most Wonderful, Counsellor, King!

  O crucified, slain, re-arisen!

  Burst open the fetters that bind,

  Change from us the garb of our prison

  And lighten the mind.

  O Spring, tell the bountiful Giver

  Thy smiles on the world are in vain;

  Come down, O Lord God, and deliver

  Our souls from the wheel and the chain,

  That Love may lie fragrant and shaded,

  And Joy may spread wings unto flight,

 
And Peace stand above, unupbraided,

  As splendid as night.

  No longer the sun shall cast shadow,

  No longer the flower shall lack rain,

  The word shall be fair as a meadow,

  And Love know no tincture of pain;

  The Glory of God shall be on us,

  And over the kingdon unpriced

  The Spirit of Love is upon us,

  A crucified Christ!

  O rapture! O glory! O gladness!

  When Satan is fled from the land,

  When Christ cleanses sin, and from madness

  Deletes its indelible brand;

  For life shall spring where they have smitten,

  And Love rise from under the rod,

  Till all men behold what is written,

  The kingdom of God!

  WITH A COPY OF ‘POEMS AND BALLADS’

  Bon Pantagruel, je t’offre ces lyriques,

  Vu que tu aimes, comme moi, ces mots

  Des roideurs sadiques d’un grand jambot,

  Des sacrées lysses de l’amour saphique.

  Accepte donc comme temoin complet

  D’amitié, ce petit don, qui dit

  Toutes les délices de rose et lys,

  Ces fleurs odorantes du sadinet!

  Oublié donc, en lisant, toute faute

  De moi qui écris cette dédicace

  Laible, d’une lyre mal attunée;

  Souviens-toi seul de l’admiration haute

  Qui a fait naître, d’étemelle grace,

  La fleur d’une loyale amitié.

  AD LYDIAM, UT SECUM A MARITO FUGERET

  1

  The bird has chosen, and the world of spring

  Under Love’s banner is enrolled, but thou,

  Chained to the iron couch of wedlock fast,

  Art mourning while all nature else doth sing

  The deep delights of Love. Still on thy brow

  Lurks the dark shade, thy smile is overcast

  With fear of the world’s thought, and lips of love

  Pale at that spectre, imminent, immense,

  Cold Chastity, the child of Impotence,

  And eyes grow dim with grey distrust thereof.

  Forget, dear heart, forget; life’s glow is sweet:

  Come to a lover’s arms that grow divine

  At the first eloquent embrace of thine,

  While pulses in wild unison warmly beat.

  2

  I know a valley walled with glistening steep

  Of fire-hewn rock, and stately cliff of ice,

  Filled with green lawns and forests black with pine,

  Where the clear stream shall sing us into sleep

  With murmuring faintly, and devine device:

  Come with me there, and we will surely twine

  Bright wreaths of Alpine gentian for thine head,

  Those glowing tresses, auburn in the sun,

  And in the night, dim fires of matchless red

  To hold my love, and lead my kisses on

  From night to night upon the purple bed

  Of dark embraces; till the summer is gone

  We will forget in love the world of tears

  Whose tumult reaches not our amorous ears.

  3

  Come with me thither. Let the chaster snow

  Blush at the sunset, when our limbs grow fain

  To twine close caressing, let it blush

  Redder at sunrise, when our eyelids grow

  Weary of kissing, and our arms again

  Slowly unclasp, and our fair cheeks do flush

  With memory’s modesty. The mountains glow

  Warmer and whiter, dreamland’s power shall wane

  While the sun tints the beauty of the bush

  And all the forest with his finger-tips

  Of budding fire, and we surprised will wake

  While Shadow’s brush in darker colour dips,

  And roam about the valley, and will take

  Fresh delicate delight, with smiling lips.

  4

  Summer may die, but on the azure sea

  That girdles warmer lands the sun will gleam;

  There will we wander, over dale and how,

  Sweet with green sward, faint flower, and tender tree.

  There all the winter may we idly dream

  Still of our love, and there forgetfulness

  Of the past sorrow may steal o’er thy brow

  In the new birth of stainless happiness,

  Rich harvest of the blossoms desire,

  Satisfied alway, yet for ever fresh

  In hearts so passionate, and there may’st thou

  Love to thy fulness, nor for ever tire

  Of linking me to thee with dainty mesh

  Of auburn ripples of delicious fire.

  5

  Doubt not, dear love, nor hesitate to say;

  Blush if thou wilt; I love to see thy cheek

  Grow hot with love-thoughts – let the word be said:

  Between shy finger whisper me the “yea”!

  My soul will leap to hear, as thine to speak.

  Remember Love, forget the loveless bed;

  Forget thy husband, and the cruel wreck

  Of thy dear life on Wedlock’s piteous sands;

  Love’s all in all on the golden bands

  Forged in heaven without flaw or fleck.

  I know thine answer by these amorous hands

  That touch me thus to tempt me, by the kiss

  Whose sudden passion burns upon my neck

  Thy heart clings to me in perfect “Yes”!

  CONTRA CONJUGIUM T. B. B.

  Anathema foederis nefandi, jugeris

  immondi, flagitii contra

  Amorem, contra Naturam,

  contra Deum, in saecula praesit

  Amen! Cum comminatione pastorum improborum,

  Ecclesiae malae, qui tales nuptias benedicunt.

  Through nave and chancel drone the choir,

  Their chant rolls through the darkened aisle;

  Their song soars up beyond the spire;

  The priest prepares; there waits his smile

  A deed most vile.

  Harken, thou fool at altar-rails

  The still small awful voice of fear

  Whereat earth shakes and heaven pales –

  “I am the Lord”; His voice rings clear:

  What dost thou here?

  “Thou hast despised my laws, and stilled

  The voice of Nature and my voice,

  Now, shall thy life with joy be filled?

  At thine own time shalt thou rejoice?

  At thine own choice?

  “I gave thee life, I gave thee youth,

  Four seasons fair, for love the same,

  Health, strength and comeliness – forsooth,

  And thou hast quenched my holy flame,

  And scorned my name!

  “I gave thee life, life passeth by;

  I gave thee youth, that youth is fled.

  Thinkst thou that I will fructify

  Now, at thine own good time, thy dead

  And barren bed?

  “How worship me, yet break my laws?

  Art thou a God? Didst thou devise

  The infinite world? Did thy word cause

  The silver Caucasus to arise?

  Art thou all-wise?

  “‘Or hast thou mocked me, setting high

  A molten calf, a graven block,

  A fetish foul, a devil’s lie,

  And worshipped that? Thou shalt not mock,

  Thou barren rock!

 
; “Thou shalt not mock! Cold Chastity,

  Father and child of Impotence,

  Whom thou hast set on high for me,

  From her foul shrine shall chase thee thence:

  ‘Avoid, get hence!’

  “And I – thou shalt not scorn my word,

  All Nature sets it scorn on thee;

  Sweet flower and stream, swift fish and bird,

  Shall chorus out ‘Thou fruitless tree!

  Thou salt dry sea!’

  “I will not aid thee in thine age,

  Nor heed thee in thy piteous strait;

  Live thou in thine own empty cage,

  Forged every day that thou didst wait

  Too long, too late!

  “Shall I turn back the seasons past,

  Recall sun’s shine and cloudlet’s fleece,

  Revive the ghosts of aeons vast,

  And bid the scythe of Chronos cease

  For thy caprice?

  “Because thou wilt, shall I accede

  And change my laws that I have made

  Shall I make grapes from thorn and weed,

  Fresh water from the fountains stayed,

  If thou hast prayed?

  “For thine outcry bring chaos back,

  Turn over earth and heaven to hell,

  And listen ’mid the roar and wrack,

  With pleasure to creation’s knell,

  Thy marriage bell?

  “I will not turn the Red Sea back

  That thou mayst pass again dry-shod:

  Thou hast chosen, thou shalt live the black

  Dry years out till thou cleave the sod,

  And meet thy God.

  “What are thy good deeds? This one thing

  Thou hast not done. This chiefest task

  Thou wouldst not do. And shall the King

  Of Kings do only what men ask?

  Thou empty mask!

  “Repentance is too late, lost fool,

  Dead flower, salt fountain, rusty sword,

  This curse is on thee for thy dule,

  That thou shalt know and be assured

 

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