SLAVE: “Ah, I’m not laughing: plumes and seals and amulets

  have made me lose my wits. What road shall I choose now?

  Master, rise from your pillows, the forest forks in two:

  shall we go right or left? Both roads seem good to me, 620

  but you’re the king and hold all roads within your hands.

  Make up your mind, command me, don’t ask my advice.”

  OLD KING: “The bold heart trembles now nor knows what road to take.

  A deep voice in my wasted entrails cries aloud:

  ‘Aye, king, in this dark hour you hold your destiny. 625

  Your whole life hangs on a thin thread in hovering plight:

  if you should take one road, life like a warbling stream

  shall flow in chaste delight to water fields and flowers,

  to run fresh watermills, to bring down teeming fish,

  as on its banks a rout of red-cheeked children play; 630

  but if you take the other road, you’ll find your fate

  rearing in ambush like a flickering conflagration,

  until your mind catch fire, your castle burst in flame,

  and your whole country disappear in smoke and ash.’

  These are the bitter words the voice shouts in my mind, 635

  and in deep groans I raise my hands and fiercely plead:

  ‘Ah, where, to right or left? Save me from the wrong road!’

  But only ruthless laughter in my heart replies.”

  SLAVE: “Master, the night has fallen and darkened both great roads.

  Raise your hand high; command! Shall I go left or right?” 640

  OLD KING: “What’s right, what’s left? Guide my gold chariot where you please!

  All crooked roads at length lead to the same dark cliff.”

  SLAVE: “Then with your blessing, my lord king, I’ll take the right!”

  The bone-flute stopped, the lone man wiped his neck of sweat,

  master and slave were suddenly dazed, the horses neighed 645

  and reared on crimson-painted hooves that broke in blood,

  a baby parrot fell and squirmed on earth, confused,

  for all had heard the sweet flute play, that now had ceased.

  As the god-killer wiped his sweat, a mocking laugh

  tore the sheer-woven veil upon the loom of dream 650

  and a glad voice was heard in watchful sleeplessness:

  ODYSSEUS: “Man’s written fate swells up and stinks like rotting wounds.

  O golden chariot, I, too, thought you should turn right;

  earth’s a great gyre, the heart’s a whirlpool and gulps all.

  Slaves, steeds, and masters met; I blew, and off they went! 655

  It’s time I gathered now, and in the vortex cast

  those two rose-petals that, clasped on the cliffs of youth

  and flaming date tree’s root, now kiss so tenderly.

  But first I’ll crouch down low and press my ears to earth,

  for their words scatter sweetly down the chasm’s lips; 660

  before my full mind puffs and the world drowns, I take

  much joy in hearing how my phantom creatures talk of love.”

  PRINCE: “I hold you on my knees, my dear, and clasp you tight,

  I stroke your hair, your breasts, your shoulders, your soft knees

  and shake for fear you’ll vanish when the black cock crows. 665

  I’ve never felt the spirit so sweet or warm before,

  as though it, too, were fragrant flesh and firm embrace.

  Alack, I pluck your apples, but I fear the cliff, 668

  for your great father was a mighty man of magic

  and this firm form I hold, these godly sounds I hear 670

  will vanish like a thought of my deluded mind.”

  MAID: “My dearest love, I’m a real body and a real soul;

  I’m the ascetic’s child who loves you, smells your musk

  and twines your stalwart body like a wild-grape vine.

  Dear God, I never dreamt that flesh could be so sweet! 675

  I don’t believe in spirits now, my mind rejects them,

  all spirits together are not worth man’s holy body;

  it’s you I’ve waited for, warm flesh, to be so blessed!

  From a sweet apple tree we’ll hew our fragrant bed

  and our son’s cradle from a lasting old oak tree, 680

  and if some logs remain, then in the sweet nighttime,

  sitting before the fire, we’ll carve our household gods;

  you’ll hew from oak a male god with an unkempt beard, 683

  and I from apple a plump maid who holds her child

  and smiles with gentle patience on our smoking hearth.” 685

  PRINCE: “Dear wife, your bones emit sweet musk and cinnamon!

  Take this red pomegranate, burst it at my door 687

  that sons and grandsons may soon scatter through our courts.”688

  MAID: “I ripened like an apple on the tree’s top bough, 689

  and now I tremble, for I feel my landlord’s hand 690

  searching amid the boughs to find and pluck me! Ah!”691

  PRINCE: “It was no unicorn, it was no small musk doe;

  my fate leapt through the woods with a beast’s lovely grace

  and I rushed after it, as suns and moons burned bright,

  to hunt down an uncatchable and godly fawn. 695

  But suddenly then, with downcast eyes it beckoned gently

  and vanished, and I saw you, love, nude on the ground.

  My wits were dazed, I thought creation was reborn,

  for round me all streams warbled, all trees burst in bloom,

  the full moon like a page-girl strolled on the green earth 700

  with large white poppies in her hair, parted the trees,

  till I could see you clearly at the date tree’s bole

  kneeling before your father’s corpse that smelled of musk.

  I threw my long bow on the grass, and you and I

  washed his still warm though pallid head and decked it well. 705

  You raised your calm eyes then nor asked me who I was.”

  MAID: “I did not fear or ask, I felt salvation near;

  the soul’s a sky-kissed lady, but she longs for flesh.”

  PRINCE: “Ah, the night-vigil near the stream and your cool body!

  How all stars hung down naked in the trees, how sweet 710

  the nightbirds sighed in mountains and the beasts in woods!

  Suddenly then a goldfinch swooped from the tall trees,

  perched with delight upon your father’s flowered hair

  and puffed its saffron breast and warbled all night long.

  Ah, our veins swelled and throbbed, our throats choked with desire, 715

  we’d never before enjoyed such rapturous melody,

  and our two bodies merged on earth and soared like souls.”

  MAID: “Be still, my love, for in the breath of night I hear

  wheels rolling close and the soft sigh of steeds, I hear

  an old man’s mournful voice and a crude man’s reply.” 720

  PRINCE: “Ah, that’s my father’s voice, dear love, I hear his weeping.”

  MAID: “Alas, the soul is a dream, too, and fades like flesh.

  Ah, have I clasped warm flesh or but a snatch of air?

  Your father’s come, my love, to sunder us forever!”

  PRINCE: “Don’t weep! For love of you I shall renounce my father! 725

  Don’t fear him, love, but tell him that your father died

  and that you’ve lost your way within this ghost-filled wood.

  His face is ruthless, but his heart shakes like a child’s,

  he’ll pity your all-holy youth, he’ll stoop and raise

  the daughter of our great ascetic from the ground 730

  and, filled with joy, enthrone you in the golden room

  of our rich palace for the lo
ve he bears your father;

  from that time on our lives shall roll on soft gold beds.

  Don’t weep, my moon-cheeked love, I’ll wait within the cave;

  see how his golden chariot shines already through the trees.” 735

  SLAVE: “O master, I smell musk, as though musk-deer were coupling!

  Earth gleams, and on all foliage pour the moon’s mild beams.

  Has the translucent moon rolled down to earth, O king,

  or is the ascetic’s daughter sitting there in tears?

  Ah master, don’t grow pale, don’t be afraid, dismount, 740

  it’s not a lion or conflagration, it’s not a ghost,

  it’s not your fate, my master, it’s only a young maid.

  Alas, my king, your gracious face is pale as wax.”

  OLD KING: “I hear a deep voice, faithful slave, and my heart quakes;

  turn back the golden reins at once or we’ll go lost!” 745

  SLAVE: “Master, she’s raised her face; the dawn breaks on her lips!

  Be still that we may hear the girl, hold firm your knees!”

  OLD KING: “O slave, I see a cliff ahead, our steeds stampede!”

  MAID: “Ah great king, pity me, love and revere all souls.

  The great ascetic, my loved father, has sunk in soil 750

  and his last wish was that I fall at your great feet

  and beg from you a simple gown, a humble hut.

  Behold, O long-lived monarch, how his soul has whipped

  your haughty steeds and brought you to my poor retreat.

  I want to cast myself before your holy feet 755

  but ah, I fear my hair won’t guard my nakedness.”

  SLAVE: “The maid has risen, and all light rose with her rising!

  Ah, how she feared to rise and show her nakedness,

  but now she walks erect in light and her pale flesh

  glows like translucent water plunging down a cliff. 760

  Ah, I have studied women well, I know their tricks!”

  OLD KING: “Draw back your hands, O naked form, don’t touch my knees!”

  SLAVE: “Forgive him, lady; all day long he’s scoured the world

  to find his darling son, love whips his tattered soul;

  don’t weep, his guardian angel’s loony, pain has made him daft.” 765

  MAID: “Ah, master, raise your eyes, look kindly on me now,

  I’m nothing to be scorned, I come of noble stock,

  my father, too, was monarch of all the spirits of air

  and a crown glowed invisibly on his white hair.

  He walked on water as on earth, he swam through land, 770

  and when strong foes besieged your castle, O great king,

  my father puffed his cheeks and they all flew like mist.

  His daughter now stoops low and pleads for a small boon.

  Take me into your carriage, throw me a rag, I’m cold!

  Then cast me at your castle door that I may beg 775

  with lepers and blind men; I’ll be no burden, king.

  My lord, your eyes are brimming and they flow with tears!”

  SLAVE: “Your naked form illumines much, but blinds mankind;

  allow me, maid, to speak to him for your sweet sake.

  Dear master, it’s grown dark, we’ll lose the ready road; 780

  what shame the pure ascetic’s famous branch should plead

  and you not turn your head to speak a gentle word!

  They say that when from body the strong soul is freed

  it swoops through air and soars with even greater strength;

  her father’s soul, O king, lies coiled within the cave 785

  like a great serpent, flickers its forked tongue, and listens.

  Command me, king, to place this orphan in your chariot.”

  OLD KING: “Lady, forgive me; my heart’s mossed and dazed with grief.

  O daughter of the earth and sky, O rare blessed spirit

  of the wild wastes, it’s I should fall at your slim feet! 790

  I burned with love and reverence for your lustrous father,

  his thoughts like an unconquered army zoned my walls,

  my ewes gave birth to females and my slaves to males

  for in his holy palm we lived in tranquil peace;

  and now that fate has made me worthy to find his child, 795

  I bow down and adore, O maid of the holy wilds,

  I bow and lift you from the ground, O regal crown!”

  MAID: “Great king, your gentle words have slaked my thirsty heart

  and like a golden cloak enwrapped my naked form;

  now dressed like a great queen in your immaculate words, 800

  I’ll slowly come from shade once more and loose my hair.

  Ah, let my fingertips but touch your holy knees.”

  SLAVE: “Oho, a woman’s hair is like a sharp sword-thrust!”

  OLD KING: “O faithful slave, my eyes have blurred, lean me against

  the tree and throw my steed’s warm golden saddle-cloth 805

  on the nymph’s nakedness whose dazzle makes me blind!

  Alas, esteem my white beard, God, don’t shame me now!”

  SLAVE: “Lady, blot out your nakedness in this gold cloth,

  perch on my hands and let me lift you on the couch;

  there like a sated tigress stretch or sit like flame.” 810

  MAID: “Slave, what strong arms and brawny back you have! I laugh

  because you lift me like a feather, and I shake

  for fear you’ll break my thin bones in your sturdy arms.

  Ah, if the old man were not here, how we’d both laugh!”

  As in the golden chariot the gold-glowing maid 815

  enthroned herself enwrapped in her gold cloak, the steeds

  snorted, the holy date tree sprouted flame for fruit,

  and the ascetic’s soul hissed like a household serpent god.

  Then the flute’s tune grew wilder and fate’s speed increased,

  the lone man rose on tiptoe and laughed long with pride 820

  to see how all things took their place in his mid-brows.

  He saw the forest glinting with the maid’s reflection,

  he saw the old man cracking on the cliffs of passion,

  he saw far castles burn, he saw a comely maid

  braiding her cool thighs in a gorgon’s knot with men. 825

  ODYSSEUS: “All’s well! Go to it, flute, speed up your melody!

  Child-bearing flame, how bright you glow in the gold couch;

  the soul’s a date tree on a cliff, and fire’s her fruit!

  A secret passion burns your quivering lips, O king!

  Forward! Be light of heart, old man! Reveal your pain!” 830

  OLD KING: “My faithful slave, rein in the steeds, help me descend;

  I long to cling to rock, I’ve cracked from too much weeping.”

  SLAVE: “Master, the stars are blotted out and clouds crush down,

  sharp sulphur stings my nostrils, soon the storm will burst.”

  OLD KING: “Patience! Rein in the steeds, and I shall soon return. 835

  I see a moss-grown altar on that shaded path

  where I shall go to talk in quiet with God awhile;

  O faithful slave, the spirits choke my heavy heart.”

  MAID: “Stretch out your black arms, slave, and lower me to earth;

  now that the old man’s hobbled off and we’re alone 840

  I long for a red flower I saw on the grass there.”

  SLAVE: “The old man looks up at the sky to be consoled,

  our lickerish maiden looks at earth and longs for flowers,

  and I, straight in the middle, see not earth or sky!

  Lady, why do you laugh and cuddle against my chest?” 845

  MAID: “Ah, slave, your dark beard tickles me with its sharp thorns.”

  OLD KING: “Why have you given me this flame to fetch home, Lord?

 
Pity the heart that loves you, Lord, revere old age!

  Haven’t I always been your faithful slave, the clean

  and cutting sword you held, a feather in your wings?” 850

  MAID: “Ah, ah, a shower of thick raindrops struck my lips!

  Dark clouds have crushed the peaks! I’m scared of lightning bolts!”

  SLAVE: “Let’s run into this stable, lady, out of the rain.”

  MAID: “Ah, how the stable smells! I like its pungent warmth!

  Ah, ah, the lightning strikes!”

  SLAVE: “It was my eyes that flashed.” 855

  MAID: “I’ve never seen on earth before so strong a man!

  My father always bent in wind like a slim reed;

  if he but munched a single date, he’d break in sweat,

  but you are stronger, slave, than even the greatest spirit.”

  OLD KING: “I was a fountain once of nobleness and honor, 860

  but now the garden’s vanished and the fountain’s dried,

  my heart swells like a wound now and will burst like boils

  to expose the shameless worms that fill my rotting guts.

  Until today, I drowned them and drowned with them, Lord,

  but you raised high your hand, and struck! I’ve no hope now. 865

  You don’t reward fair virtue, Lord, or keep your word.”

  SLAVE: “Lady, you laugh, and like a viper lick your lips.”

  MAID: “So long as in this pungent stable we’re alone,

  I’m tickled and well pleased, although it flash and thunder.

  Ah, but your face has grown deformed, and your teeth gleam! 870

  Respect the ascetic’s holy child! Don’t touch me, slave!”

  SLAVE: “I’m no old man to think the flesh untouchable soul.

  You’re not a sky-soul, lady, nor a wing of air,

  but soft sweet-bedded flesh, an upright downy sheath

  that’s had a lifelong hankering for black-hilted swords!” 875

  MAID: “I can’t see well in this thick dark, all seem the same;

  a kiss’s giddiness makes slaves and masters gods.

  Slave, squeeze me in your strong arms, break me like a toy!”

  They rolled in warm manure and coupled in cattle-dung;

  the slave growled like a buffalo, and the maid chirped 880

  like a small early-morning bird struck by the sun’s first beam.

  The mind blew like the North Wind, and earth shed its leaves,

  the slave had had enough of kissing, the king of praying,

  and the mill swelled its groaning wings and ground again.

  The golden chariot moved and the whip sang all night, 885

  the golden town gates gaped, and as the maiden placed