Note: Next week I’ll be publishing a longer poem, of a little over 200 lines, intended to capture, in the form of an extended prophecy, the consummation of Palestine’s liberty from its jewish oppressors. The full text will be available to paid subscribers only. If you enjoy my work, and would like to support it, please hit the ‘upgrade to paid’ button at the bottom of this email. The monthly rate is $7 USD. Paid subscribers will have access to at least two exclusive pieces per month, and to all longer poems and translations. The following are the opening 45 lines.
Palestine: An Ode (Exordium, lines 1 – 45) ‘Beati qui persecutionem patiuntur propter iusitiam, quoniam ipsorum est regnum caelorum.’ Matth. 5:10 ‘Epistula nostra vos estis, scripta in cordibus nostris… non in tabulis lapideis, sed in tabulis cordis carnalibus… non litterae, sed Spiritus; littera enim occidit, Spiritus autem vivificat.’ Ad Corinthios II 3:2 – 7 Where the one truth our living spirits bear Was written in the air By Love’s free voice on the prophetic hill Whose ledges shroud the cave of thought, I rose At sunrise, on the crest of Eremos, From sleep when day’s white fingers, to fulfill His Spirit’s hidden will, Unclasped the gray-eyed morning’s cloudy hair And broke the threads of my unwoven dream. And as in verse Quruntul’s head could seem, For the attempt of evil, to make all Earth’s kingdoms to Love’s gentle eyes appear, So from that ridge a dreadful interval Was lessened, and the liquid atmosphere Brought every region west of Jordan’s stream And south to Egypt’s desert bounds, so near My eyes, that the whole realm beneath me rose, more clear, Warm, tender, rich and bright In its own inward light Than Earth’s wild scenes illumined by the sun’s For our material sight! Here, to my spirit’s eyes, appeared at once Field, forest, hill and mountain bound By skirts of fertile ground Where the wild plum and olive, lemon and vine From heights their harvests crowned Descended, line on line, To the bright City of Christ, whose streets ran full Of souls rejoicing in their freedom’s rule, High-throned in their own hearts – unspeakably beautiful! Soul-creating Love, Who from warm threads of conscious radiance wove This moving fabric of Winds, waves, and worlds and stars – the soul whence every soul Divides, drawn in by the magnetic brain Moulding its force, which on a higher plane Resides, by flesh’s death regathered and made whole: To whom this world’s but the assumptive womb Through which your life divides, in whom Our spirits, when they sever From the weak flesh they rose in, live forever, Free, perfect, young, in endless liberty Of human thought – your Spirit speaks in me Of justice, but on Earth: a prophecy Of sacred Palestine: it is already free!