There is work to be done, if cursing
Can properly be called work.’ Balaam gulped, saying:
‘Where do I have to go?’ The elders told him:
‘To the plains of Moab, the tents of the Israelites –
There to do your cursing. You have cursing to do.’
The road they took, Balaam ahead on his ass,
Led to a narrow way between two vineyards.
Balaam with servants behind, behind four elders,
Riding an ass, which he preferred to a horse,
Being easier, for one of his bulk, to mount,
Found that the ass responded with a bray of fear
To something she saw, something he did not see.
And she tried to get from the way of what she saw,
Thrusting towards one of the walls. He whipped her, while
The emissaries behind expressed impatience, anxious
To get the cursing over. So she took the road
Again and again brayed fear, thrusting towards the
Other wall. Balaam yelled and beat her,
But, taking the path again, this time she fell
And Balaam fell with her. He rose, his anger was great,
He whipped and whipped, panting. And now she spoke.
Now she spoke. She brayed: ‘What have I done to you?
Why must you beat me three times?’ Balaam cried:
‘Who said that? Who spoke then? Was it you?
You? If I had a sword I’d thrust it straight
Into your faithless flank.’ So the ass brayed:
‘Kill me? Faithless? Am I not your beast?
Have you not ridden me every day?’ He said,
Panting: ‘You mocked me. Do you hear? You mocked me.’
And the ass said: ‘Did I ever mock you before?’
Balaam wept (he is drunk, he is old, he is mad,
The emissaries said to each other). ‘No.’
And he turned to them and to his servants. ‘Did this
Animal really speak? Am I going mad?’
An elder from Midian spoke. ‘A touch of the sun.’
And on that word light brighter than sunlight struck
Balaam, him only, and he fell flat on his face,
Hearing the voice of last night out of the sky:
Your beast saw me and turned thrice from the path.
The Lord God is no figment of man’s mind
But very reality which even the beasts may know.
Your ass has saved you by turning you from the path.
For, Balaam, if you had ridden into my path,
Then surely I would have slain you. Balaam sobbed,
Raised his terrified head towards the light,
Then lowered it, blinded. ‘I have sinned, O Lord.
I have displeased you. I will go back again.’
No, said the voice. Go to the court of the king
And speak there what I shall put in your mouth to speak.
Then the great light faded, leaving the little light,
Birds singing, the ass cropping vineleaves
And Balaam said, trembling: ‘We must go to the king.’
The eldest elder nodded, saying: ‘Yes.
The king must see you. You are obviously
In no fit state for cursing.’ So, in the palace of Moab,
The king was loud: ‘Why? Why? You had your orders.
Your orders were clear. You were to put a curse
On the hosts of Israel. And now you come babbling
About the Lord God, whoever he is.
Are you now in the pay of the Israelites?
Have they cast a spell on you? Are even their
Magicians more potent than ours?’ But Balaam said:
‘I have no power to curse the Israelites.
All I may speak is what the Lord God
Puts in my mouth to speak.’ The king cried: ‘God?
God? You mean the god of the Israelites?’
Balaam said, humbly enough: ‘It seems to me
That such language is foolish. I speak with respect.
No, I do not. Respect and disrespect
To kings and men in high places – what do they mean
To me now? It seems to me that there is only
One God, and though the Israelites
May have found this out before other men, yet this
Does not make him merely a God of the Israelites.
But certainly this God will not curse the Israelites.’
King Balak cried: ‘We have a god of our own.
It seems to me that you have wronged our god.
Ba’al has turned against you. Reparation,
Sacrifice is called for.’ But Balaam shook his head,
Saying: ‘There is only one God,
So this Lord God said to me. And idolatry
Is an abomination before the Lord.’
He seemed ready then to fall into a trance.
The court was shocked at this blasphemy, the king
Outraged. When night fell, Before the idol Ba’al,
With flares and aromatic gums burning, priests
Despatching a ram with knives, then firing the flesh
On the altar, an abomination before the Lord,
Balaam was dragged, under guard, forcibly enrobed
And ordered by the king himself to curse, but he could not.
Now, Balaam. Beg of our god what I beg of you.
A curse on the Israelites. But he could not.
Instead he spoke, as it seemed, for some not present:
‘Balak the king has brought me to this high place
Before the idol Ba’al. And he has said:
Come, curse Israel, curse the blood of Jacob.
But how shall I curse whom God has not cursed? How
Defy whom the Lord has not defied? From the top
Of the rocks I see him, and from the hills
I behold him. Let me die the death of the righteous
Before I curse Israel and the God of Israel.’
The king wept aloud: ‘What have you done to me?
I took you to curse my enemies: behold, you bless them.’
And Balaam said: ‘The Lord God is not a man,
That he should lie, neither the son of man,
That he should repent. Has he said, and shall he not do it?
Has he spoken and shall he not make it good?
Behold, I have received commandment to bless and I cannot
Reverse it.’ At the king’s sign he was led away,
Crying out: ‘God brought them out of Egypt.
His strength is the strength of the unicorn. Behold,
The people shall rise up as a great lion,
And lift themselves up as a young lion.’ They imprisoned him,
Manacled him to a wall, with serpents about,
Toads and scorpions, and thonged whips ready.
The king, troubled, said: ‘If you will not curse them,
Then at least do not bless them. Let us have you
Neutral in the fight that is to come.’
But Balaam said: ‘I shall see him, though not now.
I shall behold him, but not nigh. There shall come
A star out of Jacob, and a sceptre
Shall rise out of Israel and shall smite
The corners of Moab and all the children of Midian.’
The king struck him in the face, twice, thrice,
But Balaam cried: ‘Moab shall be a possession,
And Israel shall do valiantly.’ The king, in disgust
Said: ‘Loosen his chains. Let the madman go.
Send him out into the wilderness,
On that talking donkey of his.’ And they did so.
The Israelites in the their tents woke at sunrise to hear
A voice raised to the sky, speaking their own tongue:
‘How godly are thy tents, O Jacob,
And thy tents, O Israel. As the valleys are they spread,
/> As gardens by the river’s side, as the trees
Of lign aloes which the Lord has planted,
And as cedar trees beside the waters.’ Balaam
Had come riding ecstatic into their camp,
His ass placid beneath him. He cried aloud:
‘He shall eat up the nations his enemies
And break the bones, and pierce them through with arrows.’
Moses came from his tent to see and hear
This prodigy: a fat old man on an ass,
Declaiming to heaven: ‘He couched, he lay down as a lion,
And as a great lion. Who shall stir him up?
Blessed is he that blesses thee, and cursed
Is he that curses thee.’ Moses said:
‘Whoever he is, he needs to be looked after.’
So gently Balaam on his ass was led
Towards the tents of the high. ‘She spoke,’ he cried.
‘She was fired with the fire of the Lord, and behold she spoke.’
The ass was led to grass, and Balaam laid
Gently in Joshua’s bed. They listened to him,
Joshua, Caleb, Eleazar, Moses,
With grave attention, while the younger children
Spoke to the ass, saying: ‘What is your name?
Where do you come from?’ And the ass said nothing,
Finding the grass good. But Balaam cried:
‘Behold the great truth is come upon me.
He is a God of all things, halleluiah.
To one of the uncircumcised, a son of Moab,
He shone like a great light and so shines still.
Halleluiah. And the vessel of the Lord,
Which is Israel, shall prevail, and God shall prevail.
Halleluiah, halleluiah.’ Moses spoke to Joshua,
Quietly, half-fearful, half-unwilling to believe:
‘So – the Lord God spreads his dominion.
Slowly. Almost cautiously. And the days of bloodshed
May soon be at an end. Our land may fall to us
Like a ripe pomegranate. Without a struggle.
Without the snipping of a single lock of hair
Or the bruising of finger.’ But Joshua knew
He spoke too soon. Balaam cried on and on:
‘Strong is the dwelling-place of the most high.
Thou puttest thy nest in a rock. And ships shall come
From the coast of Chittim, and the enemies of the Lord
Shall perish for ever and ever. Halleluiah.’
And the ass, without raising her teeth from the grass,
Raised her voice and brayed. ‘It was Amen.’
The children said. ‘It sounded like Amen.’
16
ZIMRI
So that, and they praised God for it, was all behind them:
The Dead Sea stretching in sunlight like a living one,
The boys diving into it for coolness
Shocked at not sinking, borne up by the hand
Of hidden water giants. They had shrieked, splashed,
Splashed, tasted. Salt, they had cried, salt.
Salt indeed, a salt lake set in a saltscape
Glooming with crystalline menace in the sun.
All we need is something to eat with it.
Salt salt salt. Remembering grandmothers’ stories,
The women saying: ‘The wife of Lot must be here
Somewhere.’ And the men: ‘She could be anywhere.’
Zipporah moaning: ‘Salt. Salt in my throat.
Soon surely we shall meet the fresh springs.
Why do we move so slowly, Ghersom?’ They were not
Moving at all: the tents had been set up
In the salt desert, salt under a salt moon.
But now the plain of Moab, with Moses saying:
‘You think we can travel safely?’ Joshua replying:
‘We can never travel safely. The strength of Moab
Is still an unknown, and Moab has many friends.
Do not take Balaam as a sign of the weakening of Moab.’
Moses smiled sadly: ‘Driven mad by the word of the Lord.
Poor Balaam.’ (Happy Balaam rode on his ass
Through the Israelite encampment, crying to the sky:
‘For the Lord of the Israelites is all things.
Behold, he is in the creeping worm of the earth
And in the fiery lioness that is the sun.
He is the unicorn and tiger and his name
Shall be blessed for ever and ever. Halleluiah.’
And a sardonic Israelite: ‘Halleluiah.’)
‘Caution, then,’ said Moses. ‘We must send patrols
To learn about their defences. And the general attitude
Of the Moabite population. We need them friendly.
We need their wells and pasturelands.’ Joshua said:
‘But we must push on. Time is short.’ Then Moses:
‘You were never a discreet man, Joshua. My time
Is certainly short, but do not remind me of it.
I shall see the Jordan before I die – fear not.’
Joshua said: ‘I did not mean that. I meant
That the patience of our people can hardly be
Tried much longer. They are sick of wandering.’ –
‘Oh, the young are patient enough. As for the old –
Well, there are few of us left. Aaron gone,
His poor wife Eliseba. And, soon, very soon – ’
He sighed. ‘None is exempt, Joshua. The earth
Is hungry for us all. But that is what I meant
When I said we must stay here a little while.
I do not think she can very well be – moved.’
Wasted with fever, Zipporah cried: ‘Tomorrow.
We shall see him tomorrow, then?’ And Ghersom:
‘Who, mother?’ – ‘My Father, of course. And my sisters.
Those that are left. But not those wicked men
Who keep beating us away from the well. He took his stick to them.
He ran down the hill and trounced them and they ran off howling.
He was very strong in those days.’ And Ghersom said:
‘Is still. Is still very strong.’ (Very strong
In the synod, explaining the law at that very moment:
‘The line must be drawn wide, very wide. It is the margin
That is the essence of the law. Thus we condemn
The eating of the flesh of swine, and why?
It is not enough to say that it is unclean.
If you eat the flesh raw you will, as we know,
Contract disease: you belly will writhe with serpents.
If you eat it well-roasted you will be safe,
Since great heat kills the eggs of the serpents within
The body of the beast. Now who is to draw the line
Between well-roasted and ill-roasted? Who, indeed,
Is to draw the line between the roast and the raw?
It is safer to draw the margin too far out
And condemn the eating of swine’s flesh altogether.
And so with marriage – always the safe margin.
Marry your brother’s daughter; soon enough
Others will marry their mother’s sisters, even
Their sisters, even their mothers. Draw the line
Far out, always far out, remember that.’)
And Zipporah rambled more. ‘It will be pleasant
To sit by the well and talk. And sing. And play
Games with the ball as we used to. Waiting still
For the strong man from the strange land over the mountains
To come and fight the bad men by the well.
He will come with sunrise. Is it sunrise yet?’
Not waiting for an answer. ‘Sunrise. There is a
God in the sun, did you know that? And a god in the moon.
But the god of the sun is made out of fire. He has a
Beard of fire. And he eats
fire.’ Then she cried out:
‘Why do you give me fire to eat? Why do you
Keep pouring fire down my throat? Cold water –
From my father’s well. Give me that, give it to me.’
Moses stood, sad, resigned: a matter of waiting.
He went out into the sunrise. Joshua said:
‘The patrols are leaving now. It would be good
If you could give them a word of encouragement.’ –
‘I cannot give her water from her father’s well’,
Sighed Moses, ‘but I can always give encouragement.’
The patrols were assembling now. Moses saw
A young man he though he knew, one tall and clean
And upright. ‘Zimri’ he said. ‘Zimri, is it not?’
The young man held himself stiff, answering: ‘Sir.
The son of Salu. Of the tribe of Simeon.’ –
‘I knew your father,’ Moses said. ‘He was brave.
I trust his son takes after him.’ Sir. And then,
Raising his voice in the sunrise, Moses spoke
To the entire parade: ‘What you have to do
Is to find out what chance we have of passing
Through Moabite territory in safety. You may find
That the people are friendly. Do not be afraid
Of admitting you are Israelites. Watch out
Less for fights than for snares. The king or his princes
May arrange a feast and soak you in Moabite wine.
Then, while you are snoring, your throats may be quietly cut.
See what amenities are available: wells, pasture.
Avoid their women. This is a pagan people.
They worship a false god. Do not be drawn in.
They practise all manner of abominations.
Do not be corrupted. Go, with my blessing.’
Zimri, presenting the shiny face of one
Who is incorruptible, said, firmly: ‘Sir.’
And so they passed, in their several patrols, to Moab –
Gentle pasture, gentle people, pagan though,
Hence corruptive. Igal and Shaphat entered
A pleasant town, seeing a market-place
Where fruit and roots and sheep and goats were chaffered for,
Seeing a troupe of acrobats perform,
Seeing women, veiled but giggling,
Wagging provocative haunches. At an upper window
A lady sat in indolent enjoyment
Of the admiration of the street, fanned by a girl.
They sought and found a town office and, to a clerk,
In their own speech, slowly, said what their mission was.
The were understood and led to an inner room
Where an elegant officer sat but rose when they entered,
Offering cushions to sit upon, offering wine.
Collected Poems Page 26