I contains

You look at me, a hut or cage/
your fantasy, your frantic stare ;

"a white-faced Scops owl from Sierra Leone,
West Africa," I read, under a picture in _The Listener_,

and this is Whitsun, June the ninth, and I must find
the Angel or the Power that rules this hour ;

I find the name Aneb, with the attribute,
_Dieu clement_ for the hour, and for the day,

Dieu propice with the name Sire ;

Viroaso is the angel for the day, and for the hour,

we may invoke the angel, Thopitus ;

do these rebuke me ? what can I do, my friend ?

I can only say, "O white-faced Scops,
stare out, glare out, live on ... "

3

II

May those who file before you feel
something of what you are - that God is kept within

the narrow confines of a cage, a pen ; may
they will laugh and linger and some child will shudder,

touched by the majesty, the lifted wings,
the white mask and the eyes that seem to see,

like God, everything and like God, see nothing;
our small impertinence, out little worth

is invisible in the day ; when darkness comes,
you will be no more a fool, a clown,

a white-faced Scops, a captive and in prison,
but noble and priest and soldier, scribe and king

will hail you, sacrosanct, while frail women
bend and sway between the temple pillars,

till the torches flicker and fail,
and there is only faint light from the braziers

and the ghostly trail of incense, and cries of recognition
and of gladness in the fragrant air.

## IV

An owl hooted out in the darkness,
so the angel came - what angel and what name ?

is it Tara, Dieu fontaine de sagesse
and the angel Ptebiou ? it was his hour

or near his hour, what did he say ?
a caller before noon, had spoken of owls here,

"Uhu", she said, "great owl, Waldkauz, the Wood-owl,"
and she translated Kauz as a queer fellow;

I showed the picture and she said, "how beautiful ";
how strange, how wonderful, that last night

was the first night that it came,
the distant summons, the muted cry, the call,

and my bones melted and my heart was flame,
and all I wished was freedom and to follow

the voice, not very far, not very near,
a voice that changed out into lake, the Zúrisee,

into a mystery, the haunted mere of Märchen
and old legends, of even in Lethe or Eunoë, now and here.

V

Without your Father, without your father -
what does that mean ? my father's talking to the gardner

or the man who sweeps the papers - "yes, they're pretty, mum,
the deers " - does it mean animals ? does He run, too,

on little hoover like that one, does he jump
and stand (now) like that biggest one with horns,

straight up against the wire ? he's looking over;
I wish I'd kept my half-bun,

not crumbed it for the pell penguins - are they birds, too ?
I'd like to feel his tongue upon my hand ;

that boy as is frightened - "let me help" - "he'll bite -"
" you can't reach up " - "O yes, O yes, I can,

he's looking at us" - "stand on the keeper's box,
We're busy talking " - "but, but, you take it,

its your piece of bun -" "no fear, you're welcome, miss -
but your dad's come " - my father ? my father ?

but this deer is my father - "a funny kid,
it's my fault, mister " - "now, you hop down -"

"yes, yes, I'm coming " - but I'm somewhere else,
He kissed my hand, we're somewhere in the forest,...

I never thanked the boy, was he God, too?

too.

He kisced my hand, we're somewhere in the forest...
"Yes, yes, I'm coming..." but I'm somewhere else.

He

put your hands come - "my father, my father?"
its your piece of pwn - "no fear, you're welcome, mis -
the dog was he

the dog

take it, he's a push talking - "but, put, you take it, he's a stand on the keeper's box,

"You can't reach up - " "O yes, O yes, I can" that box is frightened - "I let me help" - "He'll bite -"

I'd like to feel his tongue upon my hand; not crumpled up for the belt bengins - are they pings, too?

I measled the box

I wish I'd kept my hand - my hand straight up against the wire? he's looking over;

and at stand (now) like that big beat one with horse, on little hoover like that one, does he jumb

the deer - " does it mean animals? does He run, too, or the man who sweeps the papers - "Yes, they're pretty, mm,"

Without your Father, without your Father -

V

VI

Goot- Goed - Dieu qui recoit les pécheurs
and Dieu qui rejouit, the angel, Ptechout

and the angel, Aterchinis, and Sister Annie brings my coffee,
and I say, "how are you?" and she says, "gut-gut";

Goot and Goed, Scotch and Belgium, my book says,
Goot, gut and good and surely God, and so we play

this game of affirmations and of angels' names,
this Sunday, one week after Whitsun;

though I can not say Ptechout and I must look again
to see if Aterchinis is spelt right, Goot, Goed seems easy

and the way direct; "gut-gut", I'll say and Goot will surely
God who receives sinners? what are we ? answer;

and Goed is "gut", actually some say "goed" here,
some of the simple people, they are sinless,

we have known the desperate day of Cain,
none of us blameless, but a proud angel says,

"I serve Him who receives the outcast." and another says,
"I bring happiness and serve God who rejoices."

9

VIII

He went away, Goth, the German, Germaine,
degrees, days, hours, MAXIMUM minutes,

how many? he left the flowers, August the 3rd;
this is October 17th and they say,

he comes back in three days - will he ?
who will come back ? a wandering flame,

a name, Goth, Gott, Dieu admirable, or another ?
what Sun will rise, what darkness will unclose ?

what spark, diastole, systole, compel, repel ?
what counter-appeal contract the heart ?

or not ? what mystery ? shall the winter-branch
be broken, fuel for another ? or shall the branch,

prouder than spring, lordlier than summer,
strike deeper and grow higher to disclose

the last enchantment,
the white winter-rose ?

IX

Germins said, "isn't it over-weighted ?

can you have so many angels' names,

a pot of coffee, a list of dates, months, days,
a prose in-set ? or is it poetry ? Egypt,

heiratic rythm, then the most ordinary association, ",
but I said, "isn't that the whole point, anyway ?"

what am I doing ? am I swept into a cycle
of magestic Spirits, myself aspiring yet questioning

my right to mention even one of the seventy-two regents
of the great Temple of the Oedipus AEGyptiacus ?

am I in some way, culpable ? for does the magnetic sway
of the vast cycle require this space, this place,

this corner of this room, to prove the might
of the infinitely great to protect

most the almost invisible
the minute, a spark, from the extraneous chaos,
the impenetrable outer gloom ?

X.

Or is it a great tide that covers the rock-pool
so that it and the rock are indistinguishable

from the sea-self and are part of the sea-floor,
though the sea-anemonie may quiver apprehensively

apprehensively and the dried weed uncurl painfully
and the salt-sediment rebel, " I was salt,
a substance,
concentrated, self-contained,
am I to be dissolved and lost ? "

" it is fearful, I was a mirror, an individual,"
cries the shallow rock-pool, "now infinity

claims me; I am everything ? but nothing ;"
peace, salt, you were never as useful as all that,

peace flower, you are one of a thousand-thousand others,
peace, shallow pool, be lost.

["XI", "His is the 48th decade of the sphere,\nhis is the angel Senciner, the time of invocation", "or of prayer is 3.40 until 4 - what do we do ?\nwe clear the table, pile books on a chair,", "slide out of boudoir-slipper, grope anxiously for shoes,\nopen a window to the winter-air; x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x

13

XII
Regent of distant fire and snow
and what is near, Senciner,

the Temple of our father, OEdipus AEGyptiacus,
the shadow of the portal on the sand, the lintel,

and the painted walls, where any child may read
our fate in images of birds and bees,

while the scribe, the initiate and the desperate waits,
faltering before the threshold, xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

blinded by the Sun; where are we ?
how do we meet here ? where have you gone ?

but this is Germain, fearing my abstraction,
xxxxxxxx why are you trembling ?

what are you thinking ?
I don't know where you are ;

you must come out, the car will come to-morrow,
you haven't been out for a week ;

you you loved the trees, like brides, you said,
verzaubert, you loved you said, the forest,

geisterhaft im Nebel, xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
is five o'clock too late ? "

XIII

Sotis, Sothis, Sith, Venus, Venus, Mercury, be near,
these Regents rule these planets and these planets serve

to mark the decants, to concentrate, control
the actual space reserved for *Dieu qui exauce les pécheurs*,
*Dieu redempteur* and *Dieu seul and unique*;

their hour is six to seven, carlessly, we sleep
fear

or wake to feel the peril of another day,
while Venus, Venus, Mercury despair,

yet still this Trinity sends out its message
through the winter-dark, arise, arise, re-animate,

O Spirit, this small ark, this little body,
this small separate self; of the world's mortals,

make but one immortal, let but one awake,
to set the dead pyre flaming,

that the Phoenix, Venus, Venus, Mercury
may fire the world with ecstacy,

with Love who forgets our faults,
with Love who redeems the lost,
with Love, Love, Love unique.

XIV

What of the other Regents of the night ? lost ?
no, Germain, hold me close, peach-blossom petals fall

outside a bamboo-shelter -, is it four? or five? or earlier ?
what Trinity shall we call, to spread the silken covers

of our bed ? here, the rain drips
and snow, just turned to rain, upon the windows,

and the window-panes are clouded with this winter-rain and snow ;
this is our day - the night ? shall we renounce

the later fruit, the peach and pomegranate,
cleft open, ripe to be taken, eaten ?

your pride, your dignity, my own reticence
demands perfection ; not here, where we meet

in friendly talk, " I heard a symphony, Cherubini,
new to me, yesterday when you left,

I think that he knew Rixzt Lizst ;
funny, you were quite right,
much

Purcell is much, much earlier that Mozart ;
to-morrow, then ? " he bows and on my hand,

peach-blossom petals fall,
this is the day, the one kiss that we know.

18

XVII

As Mary bowed before her Son, so I bow down,
not to Germain, but in a way, to you, Germain ;

"german", the near-relation, "german", first,
bud that awaits the flower,

seed that creates the fruit ;

"you should be happy that I'm tired and worn,

giving my life-force to these little songs,
instead of carping at me" - "what is carping ? "

"O, grumbling, scolding, urging this or that,
I can not take a trip to Sicily,

or even to Lugano, and talk of this is torture,
for you know, I can't go there,

I can't go anywhere, but you can go,
O, Germain, go, go, go - I've yet to chart my way

to the mysterious Melindais or the Zaflanians,
or even find again

the Regents and the Decants that I know,
Illyrian or Bohemian ...

and our simple mystery, Grande Mer

19

XVIII

Sombre Mère Stérile and
the light and dark; you hold the planets steady

in their course, you and your Son,
and there is no land where you are not found,

no hour, when you are not near,
and you are always here,

to spread the picture-book upon my bed,
to show me who you are, Tara, Miri, Mara,

with mountain-cherries like the mountain-snow,
or golden weed washed upon golden sand,

with shells like small rose-whorls,
and shells like hollow bowls,

and the one special shell you choose for me,
among the myriad-myriad others;

this is my shell, you hold it to my ear,
"listen, my child, fear not, the ancient lore,

(Gymnosophes, Philosophes), this echo is for you,
listen, my child, it is enough,

the echo of the sea, our secret

XIX

A thread, a strand, 72 angels' names ...
how to go on? we have named 7 of these ;

the seventh is Senciner, and then, three more,
and then another, Seket and her hour ;

O mother, father, Seket, Senciner, at the end, we found
a bowl, a shell, at first, an owl, a deer,

that's how it started, the child compassed it,
began and closed the circle ...

"now mum's fanciful," she thinks ;

we're sitting in our kitchen, here in London,"

"duckier, just put the kettle on," mum says,
if only she's forget that today, last summer,

'you did come over queer,' she says,
'what was the matter ? four places, ducks,

Uncle Alf's coming in, brr, winter -brr, winter -
real pea-soup outside, yes, draw the curtains,

nice, turkey-red, I always says,
I'm thinking of that screech-owl

and those deer- my, it was hot that day,
do you remember ? "

then I shake her up and wake her up and call to Bert,
and say, 'duckie, what is it dear? what is it now? dad's here.'

XX

"It was twenty thousand, just in London,
funny, we're here ... that was the big Blitz,

there was more come after ...
those buzz-bombs and the chandeliers - "

"come, come, Alf, a cup of tea is what you want,
don't go on thinking of it - dad said he might be late-

that was long over; " "I wake up in the night
and think, by Christ, it never was

or it was somewhere else or I was somewhere else,
Gawd only knows - " "don't swear so, Alf - "

"swearing ? how I could curse,
if duckie didn't look at me, like that - "

"O, duck's all right - go open for your dad,
that was his knock ...

how often must I tell you, Alf,
that our ducks sees too much and hears too much,
and calls out in the night,
maybe, she isn't bright or maybe, she's too bright,

praying-like or singing-like, I wouldn't know;
she screams or sings, Father, Father,

22

XXI

"The Slaughter of the Innocents, that's what is was;
I never look at ducks and her white face,

but what I see -" "O, Alf, shut up,
we can't go back -" - for you and me,

and tough blokes like me and Bert,
perhaps, it was coming to us,

but for such as she - "-"they're coming back, hush -"
"-she'll help her dad off with his coat,

grown-up and proper, ask of the shop.
talks like a little lady, formal,

she'll take his scarf and lay it on the rack,
like she done just now for me - I never see -"

"Alf, Alf, you'll drive me crazy -"

"O, I'm proper sorry, after all, you done -"

"What did I do ?" "O, you and such as you,
you kept us all going, kept the world,

if you get my meaning, on its feet,
you going out Blitz nights for lost cats -

"O you can laugh, and we laughed them, by golly,
you with the Blue Cross pinned on your old coat."

23

XXII

Someone said, "poor little tyke",
and a man from dad's shop who talks funny,
said, "Christkind", and mum said "sush" at him,
and said to me, "that's German for a good girl,

are you a good girl, duckie ?"
I stack the dishes and I wring the dish-cloth,

like mum says; I clean the sink with rinso,
not too much; I shake the mat before the door,

I water the geranium - is this being good ?
mum says, "good girl"; I do this not for mum

or anyone; I do it for myself; if I go on,
I make a sort of track, I can't say what,

its pebbles and hard stones, its something in a story,
I can't say where it goes -

it goes from where I brush the carpet on the stair,
to the landing just above.

XXIII

Mum said I was took queer,
I don't know what I said,

I know I'll never say it any more,
only to myself, I say it over and over,

when I'm in bed ...

Let the child sleep, let the world sleep,
few can endure Teut, Agad, Hana, Sila,

the names you share with God, Grande Mer
... few can endure

the ecstacy, the fever,

the folding and unfolding of a flower ;

I can endure

I am I endure your beauty and your favour ?

the day moves on and you were here at dawn,
the day moves on

Sotis and Sothis; the day moves on toward dark,
I wait the after mid-night Messenger,

all day I wait for her, Seket from Egypt,
with the red Egyptian lily in her hand.

["XXIV", "Lady of chaste hands and the quiet mind,\nwe have neglected you, being faint and numb,", "inert, resentful, at 16.40, of the day,\nlooking backward to the night that's past,", "looking forward to the night to come ;\nOuestucati, your decant brings the sea-wind", "and the level plain of Leuke, that white sand ;\nyou come from the Hesperides,", "how can we greet you here ?", "how can we meet you there ?", "O chaste, immaculate, accept our feeble effort,\nour faint prayer ; in you, there is no conflict", "with the hours, the seasons and the minutes ;\nwe would bear a flickering taper to you,", "O most fair ; unworthy, we would pray\nyour intercession for us ; grant us strength,", "X X 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x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x_x

daignez m'eclairer, me garder, me dirigez,
ange du Seigneur.

XXV

3.20

At 3.20, we served you meanly, Siémé ;
true, we awaited Senciner at 3.40,

who would carry us on till 4, and of this Trinity,
we did not note your predecessor, Tépiseuth, at 3 ;

(could you not match with me one hour )
but now the flowers of every season,

brighten and unfold, Germain is here ...
dive deep, dive deep, dive deeper,

for the 4 and 5 await you, through and under
the other side of the sphere,

and all the other numbers in their order ;
at 3.20, we served you meanly, Siémé,

but still the Sotis, Sothis radiance of the dawn
followed us, and still the brilliance

of the after-midnight Seket tracked us down,
and still the morning Leuke held her own ;

at 3.20, we served you meanly, Siémé,
but now to-day, all day, all days forever,

daignez m'eclairer, me garder, me diriger,

XXVI

Dans le Soleil, Il a place sè tente,
et c'est Lui-même qui s'avance.

comme un Epoux hors de la couche nuptiale,
so Time and the Sun move on to the Bethuliens,

when Venus "strikes" at 8 ;
I don't know who they are or where,

but laugh, they say, laugh, laugh, like children ... and
laugh, they say, like simpletons, like idiots, XXXX fools, XXXX poets,
laugh the XXXX world away.

fools and poets; laugh the world away,
laugh, laugh and place your flowers

on the shore of Teut, Agad, Hana, Sila
who share your name, Soleil.