Complete Poems (30 page)

From Imagination onto Paper. Difficult the passage, risky the sea. The distance seems short at first sight, and yet even so how great a journey it is, and how harmful sometimes to the ships that undertake it.

The first sort of damage stems from the exceedingly fragile nature of the merchandise that the ships transport. In the marketplaces of the Imagination, the greatest number and the most beautiful of the objects are created of delicate glasses and porcelains translucent, and even with all the care in the world many shatter on the journey, and many shatter when they are unloaded ashore. All of the damage of this sort is irreparable, since it is out of the question for the ship to turn back and take aboard objects of comparable quality. It is impossible to find the same shop that sold them. The marketplaces of the Imagination have shops that are grand and opulent, but not of any great duration. Their transactions are brief, they dispose of their merchandise swiftly, and they are immediately liquidated. It is very rare for a ship to return and find the same exporters of the same goods.

Another sort of damage stems from the capacities of the ships themselves. They set out from the harbors of the prosperous mainlands heavy with cargo, and then when they find themselves upon the open sea they are forced to toss away a part of the cargo in order to save the whole. Hence virtually no ship manages to deliver intact precisely as many treasures as it had taken aboard. Those that were tossed away are, to be
sure, the goods of lesser value, but sometimes it happens that sailors, in their great haste, make a mistake and toss into the sea some articles of great value.

Upon their arrival at the white harbor of paper, new sacrifices are required once again. The customs officials come and examine one item and ponder whether they should send the cargo back; they deny permission for another item to be unloaded; and of certain objects only a small quantity is admitted. The country has its laws. Not all goods have free entry and smuggling is strictly forbidden. The importation of wine is prohibited, since the lands from which the ships come make wines and spirits from grapes that grow and mature in more generous climates. The customs officials have no desire at all for these beverages. They are extremely intoxicating. They are not suitable for all heads. Besides there is an association in this country that has the monopoly on wines. It manufactures liquids having the color of wine and the taste of water, and you can drink them all day long without getting giddy in the slightest. It is an old association. It enjoys an excellent reputation, and its shares are always overvalued.

But we should be happy that the ships put into harbor, should be so even with all of those sacrifices. For when all is said and done, thanks to great vigilance and great care, the number of objects shattered or cast overboard during the duration of the voyage is limited. Also, while the laws of the country and the customs regulations are oppressive in many respects, they are not completely restrictive, and a great part of the cargo is, in fact, unloaded. And the customs officials are not infallible, and various of the prohibited articles get through, inside deceptive containers which have
been labeled one way on the outside but contain something else within, and several fine wines are imported for select drinking parties.

There is something else that is more distressing still; more distressing still. Sometimes certain enormous ships pass by, with décors of coral and with ebony masts, with tremendous white and scarlet banners flying, filled with treasure, and do not even approach the harbor either because all of the goods that they carry are forbidden or because the harbor does not have sufficient depth to receive them. And so they continue along on their course. A following wind breathes upon their silken sails, the sun glazes the brilliance of their golden prows, and they move away tranquilly and magnificently, move away forever from us and from our narrow harbor.

Fortunately they are very rare, those ships. Barely two or three do we see in all our lives. And we forget them quickly. As radiant as the sight of them is, so swift is the forgetting of them. And when a few years have passed, if some day—while we sit inertly looking at the light or listening to the silence—there should by chance return to our mind’s ear some rousing stanzas, we do not recognize them at first and we torment our memory in order to recall where we heard them before. After a great deal of effort the ancient recollection wakens and we recall that those stanzas are from the hymn that the sailors were chanting, beautiful as the heroes of the
Iliad,
when the grand, the heavenly ships passed by and proceeded on their way going—who knows where.

Inside a chest or inside a wardrobe of precious ebony I shall arrange and keep the clothing of my life.

The garments of azure. And then the scarlet, those most beautiful of all. And afterwards the yellow. And finally the azure once again, but far more faded, these latter, than the first.

I shall watch over them with devotion and great regret.

When I come to wear black garments, and dwell inside a black house, inside a dark room, every now and then I will open the chest with joy, with yearning, and with despair.

I will see the garments and will remember the great celebration which will, by then, be completely finished.

Completely finished. The furniture in disarray strewn throughout the great halls. Plates and glasses shattered on the ground. All of the candles burned down to the ends. All of the wine drunk up. All of the guests gone away. A few who are tired will sit all alone, like me, inside houses that are dark—others, more tired still, will have gone to sleep.

               More happy thou, performing Member,

Who hast not need of wit’s keen temper;

Thou standst on every side possessed

Of what Parnassus boasts as best.

On thy right sits, chief in wisdom’s college,

Profound experience crowned with knowledge.

And further on, historic lore,

With erudition’s ample store.

Third on thy right, imagination

Holds by no means a humble station.

But in thy front a dazzling light

Obscures your wavering mortal sight.

How shall I praise this man so blessed

Above the poor lot of the rest?

Diplomacy, Religion, Art,

Of Letters also every part,

Find in his penetrating eye,

Judgment which no man dares belie.

No one stands with him on a par,

Except of wits the transcendent star,

To whose seat, on thy left hand side,

My duteous homage I shall guide.

               The tide of wit for ever flows

From his high throne. Now bellicose,

Fiery; now laughing and jocose.

And as men always persecute

True worth when joined to mind acute,

Against him anger is directed

When aught of wrong has been detected;

And all inspired by exasperation

Shout for a speedy situation.

Then, sole amid the increasing noise,

His wit to fruitful ends employs—

Silences every accusing voice

By proofs that none denies.—

               Be happy, Foreman, with thy station

Which offers wit and information

For every question and occasion.

Have always thy untiring sight

On thy left and on thy right;

Study each conduct and be taught

From every word and every thought.

What to believe & what to say—

When to say “yes” & when to say “nay,”

What to eat and what to drink,

What on everything to think,

How to dress and how to talk,

How to sleep and how to walk

For every human thing is brought

To perfection, and is taught

In this Pancosmium of Thought.—

Good-bye to Therápia & joys of the hotel—

Good dinners that make you exultingly swell,

Good beds that refresh you from the toil of the day

Fine sights near which you’d wish ever to stay—

To all these good things the time is well nigh

               I must bid a Good-Bye!

However Catíkioy’s opposite shore

I must hail tho’ by far more simple & poor:

But they say what is simple is good at the heart

And where goodness is we may well spare art:

So at humble Catíkioy let us not rail

               But bid it All Hail!

A transcription from the French of C. F. C.

Through smiling meadows ripening into gold,

And flowers engendered in new life and beauty

I wandered lithlessly. On every side

The hand beneficient of labour ruled;

And everywhere the people well content

With Nature’s gifts prolific, nothing more

Desired, nor tempted Sorrow with the search

For things unprofitable, vain, obscure.

               In harmony and the celestial peace of love

They lived: and thriving reaped the fruits of toil.

They knew not envy, hatred nor despair;

Nor chained their minds to the dull misery

Of discontent, distrust and little faith.

Mercy and virtue, strength and hope were theirs;

Their minds in splendour shone alike the Sun.

               Behold however darkness seized the earth.

Darkness interminable, awful night,

And opaque shadows veiled the light of day.

Deep night like that which lay upon the seas

In the beginning of the World and Time;

Deep night that tamed the wild beasts of the field

Dismally wailing in the covert woods;

Deep night confounding into one all hues;

Deep night and endless, driving men to madness,

Making them blind and sorrowful to death.

               And thereupon the multitudes began

In lamentations to reproach the Lord

With his injustice, speaking in this wise:

“Almighty, thou art good and merciful;

Almighty, we have seen and known thy love;

Almighty, we do know thee to be just.

Shew us, Father, wherein lies our sin

That we may chastise our iniquities!

An evil hour hath meted out to us

The direst of calamities: our babes

Are borne into the world in darkness, blind.

Thou hast deprived us of the fairest gift

In thy Creation. With the breath of life

Thy love awarded us the light of day;

But life in darkness is akin to death:

And death we pray Thee grant us if the light

Hath faded from the world for evermore!”—

               It came to pass that God attended them,

And thus to the celestial Chorus spake:

“Of what doth man complain? And whence these tears?

He hath found favour in mine eyes. Behold

I have awarded him the joys of Heaven,

And cleansed his soul of its impurities.

The shadows that erewhile his mind obscured

Have I expelled and driven otherwhere.”

               
But Michael mindful of man’s happiness

Spake answering: “Thy mercy’s great, O Lord;

The shadows that erewhile man’s mind obscured

Hast Thou expelled and driven otherwhere.

But lo! So numerous were these, that now

They veil the Sun, and their obscurity

Hath wrapt the world in deep and endless night.”

               The Father of all Goodness, at these words,

Smiled, and his Spirit bade upon the earth

Descend. Forthwith a voice like thunder spake:

“Your vices and your sins were numberless,

Your hearts were hardened in iniquity,

Your minds darkened.—These evils were ye spared;

For I have chased the shadows, cleansed your souls.

But lo! So numerous were they, that now

They veil the Sun & their obscurity

Hath wrapt the world in deep and endless night.”—

               Together cried the multitudes, one voice:

“Almighty, thou art good and merciful.

Restore our minds to darkness, but vouchsafe

The essence of our life, the light of day!”—

               And the Spirit answered: “Be it as ye will.

Behold, no longer is the Sun obscured.”—

               Once more the stars shone in the firmament,

The earth and deep lay bathed in luminence,

The mind of man in night’s obscurity!—

A reference had been made, as well, to blackmail.

And here again the newspaper emphasized

its complete and utter contempt for depraved,

for disgraceful, for corrupted morals.

Contempt … And grieving inwardly he

recalled an evening from the year before

which they had spent together, in a room

that was half hotel, half brothel: afterward

they didn’t meet again—not even in the street.

Contempt … And he recalled the sweet

lips, and the white, the exquisite,

the sublime flesh that he hadn’t kissed enough.

Melancholy, on the tram, he read the item.

At eleven at night the corpse was found

on the jetty. It wasn’t certain

that it was a crime. The newspaper

expressed its pity, but, as usual,

it displayed its complete contempt

for the depraved way of life of the victim.