### III.

In resurrection, there is confusion,
we do not know where to go

if we wonder; we are lost;
we must not reason, we must know;

we must be drawn or we must fly
like the snow-geese of the Arctic

to the Carolinas or to Florida;
or like those migratory flocks

who still (they say) hover
over the last island, Atlantis;

seeking what we once knew,
we know ultimately we will find

happiness; to-day shall thou be
with me in Paradise.

### IV.

Blue-geese, white-geese, you may say,
those I know, I know the nostalgia

in winter for lush grass,
the flag-flower and bullrush,

but those others, I do not know,
those birds who foolishly circle

the empty water; I know/summer/hunger
in winter, for palm-shadow

and sand and white drifts
but in the summer, as I watch

the wave till its edge of foam
reaches the hot sand and instantly

vanishes like snow on the equator,
I would cry out, stay, stay;

I remember delicate enduring frost
and its mid-winter dawn-pattern;

in the moon-sun I think of the gray
opalescent winter-dawn, as the wave

burns on the shingle, I think
you are less beautiful than frost;

V.

Satisfied, unsatisfied,
satiated or numb with hunger,

this is the eternal urge, / this is the balance / to equilibrate
this is the despair, the desire for balance / to equilibrate

/s/ the eteral variant ;
you understand that urgent calling,
insistent

that demand of a given moment,
the will to enjoyment, the will to live,

not merely the will to endure,
the will to flight, the will to achievement,

the will to rest after long flight ;
but who knows the desperate urge

those
of /s/ others- actual or perhaps now
mythical birds - who seek but find no rest /,

till their drop from /s/ the highest point of the spiral
or fall from the innermost centre of the ever-narrowing circle ?

for they remember, they remember as they sway and hover,
what once was- they remember, they remember-

they will not swerve- they have know bliss,
the furit that satisfies- they have come back -

what if the island is lost ? what if the waters
couver the Hesperides ? they would rather remember-

remember the golden apple-trees ;
o do not pity them, as you watch them drop one by one,

for they fall exhausted, numb, blind
but in certain ecstacy,

for theirs is the hunger
for Paradise.

VI.

So I would rather drown, remembering -
than rest on tropic atolls

in the coral-seas; I would rather drown, drown,
remembering, - than bed thepine or fir-branch
//bend rest on

where great stars pour down
their generating strength from Arcturus

or all the sapphires of the Northern Crown ;

I would rather beat in the wind - crying to these others :

yours is the more foolish circling,
yours is the senseless wheeling

round and round- yours has no reason-
I am seeking heaven ;

yours has n/o/i/on/ no vision,
I see what is beneath me, what is above me,
beneath

what men say is-not - I remember,
I remember, I remember - you have forgot ;

you think even before it is/over
that your cycle is at an end,

but you/begin before you ~~again~~, again, again ;
again, the steel sharpened on the stone ;

again, the pyramid of skulls ;
I gave pity to the dead,

O blasphemy, P/ pity is a stone for bread,
only love is holy and love's ecstacy

that turns and turns and turns about one centre,
reckless, regardless, blind to reality,

that knows the /Islands of the blest are there,
for many waters can not quench love's fire.

VIII.

I am so happy,
I am the first or the last

of a flock or a swarm;
I am full of new wine;

I am branded with a word,
I am burnt with wood,

drawn from glowing ember,
not cut, not marred, marked with steel;

I am the last or the first to renounce
iron, steel, metal;

I have gone forward,
I have gone backward,

I have gone onward from bronze and iron
into the Golden Age.

XIII.

And what she did, everyone knows,
and everyone knows how she took the house-money

or the poor-box money and sneaked out of the kitchen,
and in an un-maidenly and un-womanly way,

struck an uncanny bargain( or so some say)
with an Arab, a stranger in the market-place;

actually, he had a little booth of a house
set to the left, back of the market

as you pass through the lower-gate ;
what he had, was not for sale,' he said ;

he was on his way to the City,
to a coronation and a funeral- a double affair-

what he had, his priceless, unobtainable elsewhere myrrh,
was for the double ceremony, a funderal and a throwing ;

it is not ordinary myrrh and incense
and anyway, it is not for sale, he said ;

he drew aside his robe in a noble manner
but the un-maidenly woman did not take the hint;

she had seen nobility herself, at first hand ;
nothing impressed her, it was easy to see ;

she simply didn't care whether he acclaimed
or snubbed her - or worse, what are insults ?

she knew how to detach herself,
another unforgivable sin,

and when stones were killed, hurled,
she simply wasn't there ;

she wasn't there and then she appeared,
not a beautiful woman really- would you say ?

certainly not pretty ;

what struck the Arab was that she was unpredictable ;

this had never happened before- a woman -
well, yes - if anyone did, he knew the world- a lady

had not taken a hint, had not sidled gracefully/
had not sidled gracefully,

had not taken a hint, had not sidled gracefully
at a gesture of implied dismissal,

and with no apparent offence really,
out of the door.

XIV.

It was easy to see that he was not an ordinary merchant ;
she saw that certainly - he was an ambassador ;

there was hardly anyone you could trust
with this priceless merchandise,

though the jars were sealed,
the fragrance got out somehow

and the rumour/bruited about,
even if you yourself managed to keep out

of the ordinary haunts of the merchants ;
some said, this distillation, this attar

lasted literally forever, had so lasted -
though no one could of course actually know

what was or was-not in those alabaster boxes
of the princesses of the Shepherd Kings,

there were unguent jars, certainly;
but who would open them ?

wrought upon
they had charms painted/upon them,
there were sigils and painted figures on all the jars;

no one dismantled the tombs,
that would be wickesness - but this he knew,

his own people for centuries and centuries,
had whispered the secret of the sacred processes of distillation ;

it was never written, not even in symbols, for this they knew,
no secret was safe with a woman.

so the women, connoisseurs of perfume,
though they might think they were,

knew so little, and had no gift of appreciation
for that half-grain moreo or less.

XVII.

But her voice was steady and her eyes were dry,
the room was small, hardly a room,

it was an alcove or a wide cupboard
with a closed door, a shaded window;

there was no light, but there seemed to be light
like moon-light on a lost river.

or a sunken spring, seen in a dream.

dying lost
by a parched, lost man, dying in the desert
or a mirage ... it was her hair.

/XXIX/.

XIX.

I am Mary, the incense-flower of the incense-tree,
myself worshipping, weeping, shall be changed to myrrh;

I am Mary, though melted away,
I shall be a tower ... she said, Sir,

I have need, not of bread nor of wine,
nor of anything that you can offer me,

and demurely, she fastened her scarf
and modestly slipped through the door.

and demurely, she knotted her scarf
and turned to unfasten the door.

XXIII.

There was always a crowd hanging about outside
any door his Guest happened to enter;

he did not wish to make a scene,
he would simply summon someone quietly to eject her;

Simon though over-wrought and excited,
had kept careful count of his guests;

things had gone excellently till now,
but this was embarrassing;

feet
she was actually kissing His feet;
He does not understand;

they call him a Master,
but Simon questioned:

_This man if he were a prophet, would have known
who and what manner of woman this is._

XXIV.

Simon did not know but Balthasar
or Melchior could have told him,

or better still, Gaspar or Kaspar,
who, they say, brought the myrrh;

Simon wished to avoid a scene
but Kaspar knew the scene was unavoidable

and already written in a star
or a configuration of stars

that rarely happens, perhaps once
in a little over two thousand years.

XXV.

But it is not fair to compare
Kaspar with Simon ;

this Simon is not Simon Peter, of course,
this is not Simon Zelotes, the Canaanite

nor Simon of Cyrene
nor the later Simon, the sorcerer,

this Simon is Simon the leper ;
but Simon being one of the band,

we presume was healed of his plague,
healed in body, while the other,

the un-maidenly mermaid, Mary of Magdala
was healed of soul; out of her, the Master

has cast seven devils;
but Simon though healed of body,

was not conditioned to know
that these very devils or daemons,

as Kaspar would have called them,
were now unalterably part of the picture ;

they had entered separately or together
the fair maid, perhaps not wantonly,

but entering the portal but crossing the threshold
of this unhallowed temple, of this not un-lovely temple,

they intended perhaps to pay homage,
even as Kaspar had done

and Melchior
and Balthasar.

XXVII

And Kaspar( for the merchant must have been Kaspar)
did not at first know her ;

she was frail and slender, wearing no bracelet
or other ornament, and with her scarf

wound round her head, draping her shoulders,
she was impersonal, not a servant

sent on an errand, but, as it were,
a confidential friend, sent by some great lady,

ah ! herself discretion itself
in her dark robe and head-dress ;

Kaspar did not recognize her
until her scarf slipped to the floor,

and then, not only did he recognize Mary
as the stars had told( Venus in the ascendant

or Venus in conjunction with Jupiter,
or whatever he called these wandering fires),

but when he saw the light on her hair
as moonlight on a lost river,

Kaspar
remembered.

XXVIII

And Kaspar heard
an echo of an echo in a shell,
in her were forgiven
the sins of the seven
damons cast out of her;

and Kaspar saw as in a mirror, another head uncovered and two crowned,

one with a plain circlet, one with a circlet of gems
which even he could not name;

and Kaspar, master of his own caravans,
had seen splendour such as few have known,
known

and seen jewels cut and un-cut that altered
like water at sun-rise and sun-set,

and blood-stones and sapphires;
we need no inventory of Kaspar's stones specific knowledge
detailed statement of his
simply nor inventory of his own possessions,
all we need to know is that Kaspar

knew more about precious stones than any other,
more even than Balthasar;

but his heart was filled with a more exalted ecstacy
than any valuer over a new tint of rose or smoke-grey

in an Indian opal or pearl; this was Kaspar
who saw as in a mirror,

one head uncrowned and then one with a plain head-band
and then one with a circlet of gems of an inimitable colour,

they were blue yet verging on purple,
yet very blue; if asked to describe them,

you would say they were blue stones
of a curious square cut and set so that the light

broke as if from within; the reflecting inner facets
semed to cast incalcualable angles of light,

this blue shot with violet;
how convey what he felt?

he saw as in a mirror, clearly, O very clearly,
a circlet of square-cut stones on the head of a lady,

and what he saw made his heart so glad
that it was as if he suffered,

his heard laboured so
with his ecstacy.

XXVIII.

It was not solely because of beauty
though there was that too,

it was discovery, discovery that exalted him,
for he knew the old tradition, the old, old legend,

his father had had from his grand-father and/
and his grand-father from his great-grandfather (and so on/;

It was preserved by the heads of certain tribes,
certain families, and this sacred/ceremony legend

was true; it was not discussed at the heart side, hearth side,
O no, not even alone with a friend in the heart of the desert;

it was never spoken about, nor whispered in secret;
the legend was contained in old signs, that only the most painful

after application could decipher and a ch/ boy-hood and youth
given over to painful lessons in concentration
dedicated/ sessions

and long hours dedicated to the application
of the laws of memory;

but in the end, he too received the title, Magian,
(it is translated in the Script, Wise Man.)

it was never spoken about, nor whispered in secret;
the legend was contained in old signs and symbols,

and only the most painful application could decipher them,
and only the very-few could attempt to do this,

after boy-hood and youth dedicated
to the rigorous sessions of concentration

and study of the theme and law
of time-relation and retention of memory;

but in the end, Kaspar too, received the title, Magian,
(it is translated in the Script, Wise Man.)

-XXIX.-

X X X

As he stopped for the scarf, he saw this,
he saw this/
and as he straightened, in that half-second,

he saw the fleck of light
like a flaw in the third jewel

to his right, in the second circlet,
a grain, a flaw or a speck of light,

and in that point or shadow,
was the whole secret of the mystery;

literally, as his hand just did-not touch her hand,
and as she drew the scarf toward her,

the speck, fleck, grain or seed
opened like a flower.

XXXI

And the flower, thus contained
in the infinitely tiny grain or seed,

opened petal by petal, a circle,
and each petal was separate

yet still held, as it were,
by some force of attraction

to its dynamic centre;
and the circle went on widening

and would go on opening,
he knew, to infinity;

but before he was lost
out-of-time completely,

he saw the Islands of the Blest,
he saw the Hesperides,

he saw the circles of circles of islands
about the lost centre-island, Atlantis;

he saw what the sacroscanct legend
said still existed,

he saw the lands of the blest,
the promised lands, lost;

he, that half-second, he saw
the whole Ø scope and plan

of our and his civilization on this,
his and our earth, before Adam.

XXXII.

And he saw it all as if enlarged under a sun-glass;
he saw it all in minute detail,

the cliffs, the warves, the citadel,
he saw the ships and the roads crossing

and all the rivers and bridges and dwelling-houses
and the flat terraces, palasades and the built-up inner gardens;

he saw the many temples and the Great Temple hearth-stone
and the very fire on the temple hearth, Great hearth stone,

and through it, there was a sound as of many waters,
rivers flowing, and waves washing the sea-rocksgg

and though it was
and it was all on a very grand scale
yet, small and intimate,
it was

Paradise
before Eve ...

XXXIII.

×××|√

Then as he dropped his arm
in that second half-second,

his mind prompted him,
even as if his mind

must sharply differentiate,
clearly define the boundaries of beauty;

hedges and fences and fortresses
must defend the innermost secret,

even the hedges and fortresses of the mind;
so his mind thought,

though his spirit was elsewhere
and his body functioned, though himself,

he-himself was not there;
and his mind framed the thought,

the last outer-defence
of a citadel, now lost,

*it is unseemly that a woman
appear disordered, dishevelled,*

*it is unseemly that a woman
appear at all.*

XXXVIII.

And Kaspar grieved as always,
when one twin of his many goats was lost -

such a tiny kid, not worth thinking about,
to a rich man, with numberless herds, cattle and sheep!

long-haired
and he let the mountain-goats
return to the pasture earlier than usual,

for they chafed in their pens, sniffing the air
and the flowering-grass; and he himself watched all night

by the youngest white camel whose bearing was difficult,
and cherished the new-born-it looked like a large white owl-

under his cloak and brought it to his tent
for shelter and warmth; that is how the legend got about

that Kaspar
was Abraham.

XXXVIII.

XXXIX.

He was a very kind man
and he had numberless children,

but he was not Abraham come again;
he was the Magian Kaspar;

He said, I am Kaspar,
for he had to hold on to something;

I am Kaspar, he said, when a slender girl
holding a jar, asked deferentually,

if she might lower it into his well;
I am Kaspar,' if her head were veiled
(almost
and veiled it/always always would be,
he could remember, though never

though he left for a moment, did he quite forget
the return of a wrist as it fastened a scarf,

a deft turn and a slight scrape of a sandal
as another turned on her heel,

across the threshold
and out of the door.

a
the outline of the saffron-sandal
from the fold of the dark cloth,
against the folds

as another turned on her heel
and slid silently out of the door.

the saffron-shape of the sandal,
the pleat of the robe, the fold of the garment

as Mary lifted the latch and the door half-parted,
and the door shut, and there was the flat door

at which he stared and stared,
as if the line of wood, the rough edge

or the polished surface or plain,
were each siginficent, as if each scratch and mark

were hieroglyph, a parchment of incredible worth
or a mariner's map.