To the archangels and the fiery seed
Of mad Prometheus, fighting gods for men,
And heaven for earth, this greeting:
I led you once, I taught you, am the sire
Of hosts of you, but fellow to you all.
And when I fell, was chained upon this bed
By adamantine sickness, then I lay
And had you in my thought hour after hour,
Day after day, and saw you in dreams by night
Still fighting, bleeding, caring for the fallen,
Or objurgating heaven for the curse
It sheds on men, or arming for the fray
With steel of resisting thought; and so the sense
Of my responsibility has weighed
Upon me as my night has deftly dawned
To something clearer than the soul you knew,
Who led you once, with breath of iron horns,
Called to you: Charge! there is the trench of greed!
Avenge the poor! bring justice! purge the state
Of fraud! And so I lay and thought of you
Still guarding the old lines, fighting the old fights,
While I was changed, was not your leader now,
Cared no more for your battles, save as strife
That leads up higher, for upon my wall
I woke to see these words: He only wins
His freedom and existence who each day
Conquers them newly. How can I tell you
What has come over me?
You walk through galleries,
Devour the pictures in the different rooms,
Then gaze about you where you stand at last
Amid supernal canvases of light.
Try to recall the pictures you have studied,
What you have seen has helped you to perceive
The final beauties, but is blurred in mind,
It has been lived, has lost its vital power,
Is not the sovereign moment.
Climb a mountain
The whole day through, and at the time of stars
Stand on a peak and search infinity!
You have forgot the valleys, save perhaps
The torment of the flies of which you’re freed
In these cool heights.
So age cannot recall
The thrill and intimate complexities
That made the thought of youth. A sickness comes:
One has been metamorphosed, cannot live
The old emotions, habits, old delights.
And as for that we change each day and all
Our yesterdays are chrysalises whence
We crawled to what we are. In short, archangels,
I have become another soul. Now listen:
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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