Merging and rending, we wait for the miracle. Meanwhile The fire runs deeper, consuming these selves in its growth. Can this be the mystical marriage--this clash and communion; This pain of possession that frees and encircles us both? PORTRAIT OF A MACHINE What nudity is beautiful as this Obedient monster purring at its toil; These naked iron muscles dripping oil And the sure-fingered rods that never miss. This long and shining flank of metal is Magic that greasy labor cannot spoil; While this vast engine that could rend the soil Conceals its fury with a gentle hiss. It does not vent its loathing, does not turn Upon its makers with destroying hate. It bears a deeper malice; lives to earn Its master's bread and laughs to see this great Lord of the earth, who rules but cannot learn, Become the slave of what his slaves create. ROAST LEVIATHAN "_Old Jews!_" Well, David, aren't we? What news is that to make you see so red, To swear and almost tear your beard in half? Jeered at? Well, let them laugh. You can laugh longer when you're dead. What? Are you still too blind to see? Have you forgot your Midrash!... They were right, The little _goyim_, with their angry stones. You should be buried in the desert out of sight And not a dog should howl miscarried moans Over your foul bones.... Have you forgotten what is promised us, Because of stinking days and rotting nights? Eternal feasting, drinking, blazing lights With endless leisure, periods of play! Supernal pleasures, myriads of gay Discussions, great debates with prophet-kings! And rings of riddling scholars all surrounding God who sits in the very middle, expounding The Torah.... _Now_ your dull eyes glisten! Listen: It is the final Day. A blast of Gabriel's horn has torn away The last haze from our eyes, and we can see Past the three hundred skies and gaze upon The Ineffable Name engraved deep in the sun. Now one by one, the pious and the just Are seated by us, radiantly risen From their dull prison in the dust. And then the festival begins! A sudden music spins great webs of sound Spanning the ground, the stars and their companions; While from the cliffs and canyons of blue air, Prayers of all colors, cries of exultation Rise into choruses of singing gold. And at the height of this bright consecration, The whole Creation's rolled before us. The seven burning heavens unfold.... We see the first (the only one we know) Dispersed and, shining through, The other six declining: Those that hold The stars and moons, together with all those Containing rain and fire and sullen weather; Cellars of dew-fall higher than the brim; Huge arsenals with centuries of snows; Infinite rows of storms and swarms of seraphim.... * * * * *