Collected Poems

by Anthony Burgess

  The poles sagging midway with the weight,

  And the cheerful faces of the spies. ‘You see,’ Moses said

  To his people, whose eyes were eating the promise

  Of sugared juice in the distance, ‘that land, as we were told,

  Is flowing with milk and honey, at least with fruit,

  You wretched grumbling ingrates.’ Some ran out,

  Not listening, to greet the approaching twelve, cheering,

  And soon they were approaching with them, munching,

  Dripping with juice. It was Shammua spoke first:

  ‘We entered the land, Moses, as you instructed,

  And it bursts with richness. These grapes and figs and pomegranates

  We gathered by a brook that we call Eshcol.’ –

  ‘Well-named, Eshcol,’ Moses smiled. ‘A grape-cluster.

  So we have planted at least one name of our own

  In the land of Canaan. See, you foolish children,

  The wealth of that land. And that land is ours.’ –

  ‘The land is not ours,’ Shammua said. ‘We saw the people.

  They dwell in walled cities and are warlike.’ –

  ‘Giants,’ Shaphat said, ‘the children of Anak.

  We saw them. Hittites, Jebusites – who were the others?’

  Igal said: ‘Amorites, the mountain people.

  And by the sea the Canaanites. It is not ours,

  That land. We could not possibly prevail.’ –

  ‘True,’ Shaphat said. ‘We have not the numbers.

  We have not the weapons.’ Caleb spoke up at last

  To cry that this was foolish and feeble talk.

  ‘We are strong enough. We can strike now. Must strike now.’

  Moses turned to Joshua: ‘What do you say?’

  And Joshua said: ‘I am of Caleb’s mind.

  We can do it. We have certain advantages.

  They do not know our numbers. We can strike from the mountains.’ –

  ‘And what’ asked Moses of the others, ‘say the rest of you?’

  At once a protesting babble: There is no comparison

  As to strength we saw them on parade

  Huge armies we lack the power we lack the training

  The weapons. But Caleb cried aloud: ‘It is

  Strength of purpose you lack.’ Shaphat said:

  ‘Look, we have been through all that land, a land

  That would swallow us as a toad swallows a gnat.

  The sons of Arak are giants. Compared to them,

  We are as grasshoppers are to us.’ Then Dathan,

  With whom Abiram stood, Abiram, a man

  Who had suffered but said little, also Koreh,

  Koreh, that strong upholder of the law,

  Spoke in no loud voice, not at first. He said:

  ‘Listen to me, Moses. We have borne much trouble

  With hardly a murmur.’ Moses smiled at that.

  ‘We were given a promise, and that was that we were to

  Walk into this land of yours – without trouble,

  For we have not had enough and more than enough

  Of that? I say this now to you and think I say it

  On behalf of all: I would to God

  We had died in the land of Egypt. I would to God

  We had died in the wilderness. Why, tell us why,

  We have been brought towards this land to fall by the sword,

  To see our wives and children cut to pieces.

  What strong plan does this God of yours have in mind?’

  Abiram spoke. ‘I vote we choose a new captain –

  One who will better consult the people’s interests –

  One who will lead us back to Egypt.’ And he

  Looked at Dathan, who looked modestly

  Down at the ground. Moses spoke now to Koreh:

  ‘You, sir, were the rigorous upholder

  Of God’s law. Do you then join this new party?’

  Koreh, embarrassed, said: ‘I have to confess that –

  Well, my confidence in your leadership (with respect)

  Has long been wavering. I am of the people,

  For the people. The people with me must come first,

  And if the law turn sour and if the people

  Cease to see good where no good is to be seen,

  Then am I not right to waver? There is a feeling

  That we ought to return to Egypt.’ Moses said:

  ‘Never waver, Koreh. Ever be firm

  For one thing or another. Never waver.’

  But now, spilling grape-pips, fig-sap, many mouths

  Began to cry scorn for Moses, and for Abiram,

  Dathan, Koreh, strong sounds of support.

  Till Joshua cried: ‘Listen.’ But they would not.

  So he took his horn from his side and blasted loud

  And, taken by surprise, they listened. He said:

  ‘The land we passed through – it is a good land.

  It is our land. If the Lord delight in us,

  He will bring us to that land. He will give it to us,

  Against the opposition of mere giants.’

  Moses looked towards his own tribe of the Levites,

  Saying: ‘The sons of Levi have no word

  Either against or for me.’ Indeed, they stood

  With blank sad faces, shut mouths. ‘Decide’, he said.

  At least decide’. But they stood there, gnawing their lips.

  ‘Milk and honey,’ sneered Abiram. It was taken as a sign

  For the throwing of stones. Joshua cried again:

  ‘I say this – do not rebel against the Lord.

  Do not fear the peoples of that land.

  We can chew them up like bread, for our teeth will be

  The Lord’s teeth. Their defence will melt like

  Honey in the sun. The Lord is with us, not them.

  Do not be afraid. Follow me. Fight.’

  So they threw and threw, there being plenty of stones.

  And then a sharp-sided flint caught the brow of Moses

  And he cursed the people, or tried to: ‘God’s curse

  On you who curse the Lord.’ He was struck again

  And this time fell, though at once found himself standing

  In a crystal desert, looking at a tabernacle

  That was twenty suns, unflinching, hearing a voice:

  ‘How long will this people provoke me?

  How long will it be ere they believe me,

  For all the signs which I have shown among them?

  Because all those men which have seen my glory

  And my miracles, which I did in Egypt and in the wilderness,

  And have tempted me now these ten times,

  And have not hearkened to my voice,

  Surely they shall not see the land which I

  Promised unto their fathers.

  Their carcasses shall fall in the wilderness.

  They shall wander many years in the wilderness.

  None now living shall come into that land,

  Save Caleb the son of Jephunneh

  And Joshua the son of Nun. But your little ones –

  Them I will bring in, them,

  And they shall know the land which ye have despised.’

  So Moses in the spirit stood erect,

  But in the body lay stricken on his pallet,

  While Zipporah wept and tended his wounds. Without,

  In the place of assembly, Abiram spoke to many:

  ‘He is about to die. I have this, friends,

  On the best authority. He is only a mortal man.

  You have now the choice of living or dying yourselves.

  Who will lead you to life, if it is life you choose?

  Egypt is far. Beyond these mountains there

  There is hope that is near – food, water, life.

  We do not seek a kingdom. We seek a place

  Where we can enter quietly, live in peace –

&
nbsp; In slavery, if need be. Slavery –

  Is slavery worse than this life-in-death?’ Doubtful,

  Divided, the people knew now which way to turn.

  Dathan had counselled Egypt, so had Abiram:

  Now they tugged different ways: a choice of enslavements.

  But when Moses, weak but beyond fear of dying,

  Lay awake in his tent, Aaron came in to say

  That now they had various kinds of revolt on their hands.

  Some had gone over the mountains. Moses rose,

  Helped by his brother, to look afar and saw them,

  A band of climbing Israelites. He wept and raged,

  Though feeble: ‘The Lord is not with them.

  They enemy will see them – the Amalekites,

  The Canaanites. Ah, the fools. The foolish children…’

  By the Ark of the Covenant, Levites, some with packs,

  Already ripe to move, still strove in

  Justification of their timid revolt:

  We are the tribe of Moses, brothers, yes –

  But are we not also the chosen of God?

  Is it not of God himself we must seek counsel?

  At least we find that God does not speak against us.

  Has perhaps the Lord God forsaken Moses?

  In Canaan, Ahiman and Sheshnai looked,

  From the stream where they were bathing, up in wonder

  At a strange horde, unarmed, on the mountain-top,

  With sheep and goats in plenty. They ran in glee

  And wetness the sun drank to speak of it,

  To summon the drums and trumpets. And all too soon

  The fugitives looked down, panic dawning,

  Ripening, to see a dusty army flashing,

  And many began to scramble back, ready to curse,

  When they had breath, the plan of Abiram.

  Some held out longer, then fled, having seen things

  They later were to unlade in front of Joshua:

  Cut to pieces. My own father. They started

  With chopping off his ring-finger. They could not

  Get the ring off so they. Horror, sobbing.

  They are coming. They’re getting their army together.

  The Israelite camp filled with weeping, cursing,

  The fluttering of fowls at the scent of the fox.

  Joshua blew his horn, brought order, order,

  Order of a sort. ‘Let no more try to leave.

  You are all under my orders.’ At least forewarned,

  Seeing in no surprise the flash of weapons

  Coming over the mountain, the army, such as it was,

  Had not time to arm and assemble under Joshua.

  A small armed guard, under the command of Aaron,

  Guarded the tabernacle, rich gold in sunlight,

  The enemy’s, without a doubt, prime target.

  So down they came, yelling, with drum-thump,

  With bray of horn, in dust stabbed with points of silver,

  To the Israelite plain. The women screamed and scattered

  While Joshua raised his spear. In the first skirmish,

  The enemy was surprised – these were, then, after all,

  No enfeebled people sucking goat-teats. Joshua smote

  Hard and hard. Caleb killed a giant.

  But the enemy drove in to the centre, seeing gold.

  Aaron was pierced in the thigh, but the inner guard

  Fought the more for his scream, beating them off,

  The dirty defiling fingers. Within his tent,

  Moses prayed, tried to rise, was held down

  By Zipporah and Ghershom, so prayed again:

  They may not prevail. You, O Lord God,

  May not suffer them to prevail. And the earth shook,

  But it may have been a natural fault of the earth,

  Or the shaking of the armies. He heard a trumpet

  Crying retreat. Joshua, wiping the sweat away, saw it –

  Retreat. But it was the retreat of an army

  That had had enough for the day, driving before it

  Herds and cattle, also women. (They would return:

  Rich fields for reaping here.) Among the women

  Was the wife of Dathan, but Dathan did not weep,

  Rather blew his rage to a white fire.

  14

  THE DEATH OF DATHAN

  There were three of them, then, all in a sort of accord

  Hammered out of necessity, as they saw it,

  And, adorned like men of partition, with men behind them,

  They marched on Moses and Aaron. Moses, weak still,

  Lay pale on the bed, seeing three princes approach –

  Abiram, Koreh – and, ahead of them, Dathan.

  Dathan’s rage was in check. ‘If I may speak – ’

  ‘You do not look like a man who seeks permission,’

  Moses said. ‘Speak by all means, Dathan.’

  So Dathan spoke. ‘What I say I say

  On behalf of my peers. What I say

  I do not lightly say. What I say I say

  After grave and long consideration.’ –

  ‘And’ said Aaron, ‘What is it that you have to say?’

  Dathan said: ‘This. That we have reached the limit

  Of endurance of your tyranny over us,

  Prince Moses. You made promise of milk and honey

  And silver and gold and a land over which our people,

  The children of Israel, should rule.’ Moses said:

  ‘The milk and honey were certainly promised, Dathan.’ –

  And what’, said Dathan, ‘have we been given instead?

  Starvation in the wilderness, death in the wilderness’.

  Moses said: ‘You, Dathan, have avoided

  Both starvation and death with exemplary cunning.

  Now will you come to your point?’ And Dathan said:

  ‘My point is that your day of rule is over –

  Or soon will be. We have support in all the tribes.’

  Moses said: ‘I see. And what then do the

  Usurping princes seek to do with their power?

  Koreh is one of them, I see. At least he is no longer

  Wavering.’ Dathan cried out: ‘You have failed.

  The whole expedition has been a failure.

  With your tricks and talk of an all-powerful God

  You’ve swollen yourself to an imitation Pharaoh,

  Forcing your failure upon us.’ Moses sighed.

  ‘You forget much, Dathan. You forget that I

  Was once a prince of Egypt, laden with gems,

  Stuffed with sweetmeats, suffocated with the

  Perfume of courtesans. This is a strange power

  I have taken on, is it not? – The burden of rule

  Without its comforts: my palace a tent, my kingdom

  A wilderness. I ask again: what is your policy,

  Prince Dathan?’ And Dathan replied: ‘To lead the tribes

  Back to Egypt, but not into slavery.

  To make, out of a sufficiency of power,

  A treaty with the Pharaoh. To demand

  That the God of the Israelites be of equal status

  With any of the gods of Egypt.’ Aaron smiled

  Frostily: ‘At least at last you believe in a

  Sort of God of the Israelites. It is a beginning.’ –

  ‘A true beginning’, Dathan said, ‘will be to

  Show your impotence by wresting this thing away –

  This ark you use for holding the people down.

  We can provide our own priests – ’ Aaron said:

  ‘For holding the people down.’ And Moses: ‘Dathan,

  Dathan – I confess my failure as a teacher.

  It seems I have taught you nothing. God chooses man.

  Man does not choose God. God shows how he chooses

  Through signs – signs. What signs do you have?’

  Dathan said: ‘If by signs you mean tric
kery – ’

  And Moses: ‘I see you all carry your rods

  Of potential rule. Those are a kind of sign.’ –

  ‘Those sticks,’ said Dathan, ‘stand for the confidence

  Of the twelve tribes in our mission,’ raising his.

  ‘We are delegated to speak for them all.’ Moses said:

  ‘Aaron, cast your rod to the ground.’ He did so.

  ‘Now, let the rest of you contend

  With the priestly power of Aaron. Signs, signs –

  What have we, any of us, but signs?’ Then Dathan:

  ‘More Egyptian trickery. Foolishness.

  An old man’s foolishness.’ Moses said to him:

  ‘Indulge an old man’s foolishness a while longer.’

  So Dathan, sneering, cast his rod down, and the others,

  Abiram, and Koreh, cast down theirs.

  ‘What will you do with Aaron’s?’ Dathan grinned.

  ‘Turn it into a serpent? That’s an old trick.’

  But as he spoke he ceased to smirk: the rod

  Of Aaron put out leaves and flowers and fruit.

  The others stayed but rods. Then Moses said,

  Wearily: ‘I have warned you often enough

  In my time, Dathan, and now I swear to you

  That this warning shall be final. Hear me, then.

  Seek not to rise against the Lord your God.

  To you all I say this – bear back my word to the others.

  Tempt not the Lord your God, lest the ground

  Open under your feet and swallow you.’

  But Dathan and his fellows strode away,

  With no further word, while Aaron

  Picked up his rod, smelt at a budding rose,

  Saw the rose fade, the fruit wrinkle, the leaves

  Drop, become nothing before they reached the earth.

  That night, in torchlight, Moses spoke to his people:

  ‘Keep, I warn you, away from the tents of the wicked.

  Touch, I warn you, touch nothing of theirs, lest ye

  Be consumed in all their sins. Pay heed to my words.

  You shall now know, once for all, that the Lord chooses,

  That men do not. And if these men – pay heed –

  Die the common death of all men,

  Be visited after the visitation

  Of all men, then the Lord has not sent me.

  But if the Lord your God makes a new thing,

  And the earth opens her mouth and swallows them

  And they go down swiftly to the pit then, pay heed,

  You shall understand these men have provoked the Lord.’

  But Dathan, Abiram, Koreh blasphemously

  Attired themselves like priests, scoffing at his words,

  And they stood before the tabernacle like priests,

  And Dathan spoke out strong: ‘So, we stand here