Old rooks swayed in a rotten tree.
   They waved: he did not answer, although he
   Felt kindly to them all, for they could do
   What he could not: he did not dare to pray.
   His inner prohibitions were a sea
   On which he floated spellbound day by day.
   World and its fevers howled outside: within
   The Omen and the Fret that hemmed him in,
   The sense of his complete unworthiness
   Pressed each year slowly tighter like a tourniquet.
   1948/1947
   IV
   DMITRI OF CARPATHOS
   Four card-players: an ikon of the saint
   On a pitted table among eight hands
   That cough and spit or close like manacles
   On fortunate court-cards or on the bottle
   Which on the pitted paintwork stands.
   Among them one whose soft transpontine nose
   Fuller of dirty pores pricked on a chart
   Has stood akimbo on the turning world,
   From Cimbalu to Smyrna shaken hands,
   Tasted the depths of every hidden sound:
   In wine or poppy a drunkard with a drunkard’s heart
   Who never yet was known to pay his round.
   Meanwhile below in harbour his rotten boat,
   Beard green from winter quarters turns
   Her scraggy throat to nudge the northern star,
   And like a gipsy burns and burns; goes wild
   Till something climbs the hill
   And stands beside him at the tavern table
   To pluck his drunken elbow like a child.
   1948/1947
   V
   PANAGIOTIS OF LINDOS
   Dark birds in nature redevise
   Their linings every year: are not
   The less like these weaving fishermen
   Bent so exactly at their tattered seines
   On a rotten wharf, their molten catch
   Now sold and loaded: though they feather only
   For fathoms of sea and the fishes within it,
   Needles passing in a surf of lights.
   Panagiotis has resigned it all
   For an enamel can and olive shade:
   His concern a tavern prospect,
   Miles of sweet chestnut and borage.
   This armament of wine he shares now
   With the greatest philosopher, the least
   Inventor, the meanest doctrine of rest,
   Mixing leisure and repose like wine and water,
   Tutor and pupil in the crater.
   His dark sleep is bruised by each
   Sink of the sun below the castle
   Where the Sporades have opened
   Their spokes, and the whole Aegean
   In brilliant soda turns the darkening bays.
   1948/1948
   VI
   A RHODIAN CAPTAIN
   Ten speechless knuckles lie along a knee
   Among their veins, gone crooked over voyages,
   Made by this ancient captain. Life has now
   Contracted like the pupil of an eye
   To a slit in space and time for images—
   All he has seen of sage and arbutus:
   Touched berries where the golden eagle crashes
   From its chariot of air and dumb trap:
   Islands fortunate as Atlantis was …
   Yet while we thought him voyaging through life
   He was really here, in truth, outside the doorpost,
   In the shade of the eternal vine, his wife,
   With the same tin plate of olives on his lap.
   1948/1947
   ELEGY ON THE CLOSING OF THE FRENCH BROTHELS
   For Henry Miller and George Katsimbalis
   I
   Last of the great autumnal capitals
   Disengaging daily like a sword
   The civil codes, behaviour, friendship, love,
   In houses of shining glass,
   On tablecloths stained with pools of light,
   By the rambling river’s evening scents
   Carried our freight of pain so lightly:
   And towards evening when the inkwells overturn
   And at last the figure which has sat
   Motionless for hours, pours himself out
   One glass of moonlight, drinks it, and retires.
   By the railway arches a stone plinth.
   Under the shadows of the lamps the figures.
   So many ways of dividing up the self:
   Correspondences moving outwards along a line
   Of nerves, the memory of letters
   Smelling like apples in an empty cupboard,
   And at midnight the pall of clocks,
   At odds among themselves, the shuffling
   Of innumerable packs of cards where each shall see
   One day his face instead of fortune’s be.
   II
   Bound here to the great axis of the sex,
   Black source that feeds your manners, gives
   Information and vivacity to food and linen,
   Determined as the penetration into self-abuse—
   For each separation by kisses forges new bonds:
   Three or four words on the back of a letter,
   Tessa waiting on a corner with all she feels,
   Rain glittering in that peacock’s eye,
   As heavy with sense as a king’s letter with seals.
   Here the professional observer met you,
   The amateur in melancholy,
   To the swish of an invisible fountain,
   Drinking from a glass under a man on horseback,
   Talking to a lady with a poisoned finger.
   Women turned over by the mind and each
   A proper noun, an act of trespass,
   Improper for its aberration but accepted
   As in a mirror one is twice but accepts.
   So in these magazines of love they moved,
   Experience misbegotten in each face like rings
   In wood, were commentators on our weakness,
   Through cycles of repentance in the blood,
   Exhausted the body’s ugly contents in a sigh,
   Left, hard as ash, the object’s shape: an art
   Eros began, self-murder carries on.
   III
   Of all the sicknesses, autumnal Paris,
   This self-infection was the best, where friends
   Like self-possession could be learned
   Through the mystery of a slit
   Like a tear in an old fur coat,
   A hole in a paper lantern where the seeing I
   Looked out and measured one:
   The ferocious knuckle of a sex
   Standing to acknowledge like a hambone
   Our membership in the body of a tribe
   Holy and ridiculous at once:
   Symbol of unrecognised desire, pain, pain.
   You might have seen silence flower in eyes,
   The tobacco eyes of every human critic,
   Or a mouth laid along the meniscus
   Of a lighted glass blazing like a diamond.
   All the great brothels closed save Sacré Coeur!
   Windows boarded up from the inheritors,
   The nameless donors inhabiting marble fanes
   On peninsulas with cocks of gold in sunlight,
   Under the oleanders, printed in warm moss,
   The bare ankles playing on a flute,
   Selecting the bodies of boys, the temporary
   Refuge for a kiss on the silver backs of mirrors:
   Powder of statues in a grove born old,
   Born sightless, wingless, never to be loved.
   IV
   Crude man in his coat of nerves and hair
   Whose kisses like apostles go about
   On translated business never quite his own,
   Derives from the obscure medium of the body,
   As through some glass coffin, a retrievéd sprite,
   Himself holding the holy bottle, fast asl 
					     					 			eep.
   All these rotten galleries were symbols
   Of us, where the girls like squirrels
   Leaned in the tarnished mirrors sadly sighing:
   The wind in empty clothing, while the destroyer
   Sorted the bottles for just the right medicine.
   Below us, far below on the stairway somewhere
   Tessa had already combed the dark disorder
   Of curls, the flash of pectorals in a mirror,
   Invented already this darker niece of Egypt,
   Who leaves the small hashish-pipe by the pillow,
   Uneasy in red slippers like the dust in urns,
   The smashed columns, wells full of leaves,
   The faces white as burns.
   V
   We suffer according to the terms we make
   With time in cities: allowing to be rooted from us
   Like useless teeth the few great healers
   Who understand the penalties of confession,
   And cannot fear these half-invented Gods,
   Inhabiting our own cities of unconquered pain.
   Now the capitals settle slowly in the sea
   Of their failures. All the common brute has done
   Building like a rat the rotten shanties
   Of his self-esteem beside the water’s edge,
   His fear and prejudice into a dead index.
   It is not enough. We have still to outgrow
   The prohibitions in us with the fears they grow from:
   For the beloved will be no happier
   Nor the unloved less hungry when the miracle begins:
   Yet both will be ineffably disclosed
   In their own natures by simplicity
   Like roses in a giving off of grace.
   1948/1947
   Puisqu’il lui est interdit d’éluder la contradiction aussi bien par le divertissement que par le suicide ou par le ‘saut’ mystique, quelle forme de vie adoptera L’Homme Absurde pour rester fidèle à sa vocation de lucidité?
   Il s’attache à dégager non seulement l’opacité d’un corps de pierre ou d’une ‘chose de beauté’, mais aussi l’objectivité angoissante du Moi à l’égard du Je.
   C’est ainsi que le Séducteur, le Comédien, le Conquérant et L’Artiste présentent ces traits communs de vivre dans L’Immédiat, de tendre à un renouvellement indéfini de leurs expériences, de sauvegarder à chaque moment leur lucidité dérisoire et leur libre disponibilité, d’accepter, enfin, le risque d’être damnés ou condamnés pour n’avoir prétendu recevoir leur bonheur que de leurs propres mains.
   Le Sens de L’Absurde
   GEORGES BLIN
   POMONA DE MAILLOL
   For Eve
   An old man tamed his garden with wet clay
   Until Pomona rose, a bubble in his arms.
   The time and place grow ripe when the idea
   Marries its proper image in volition,
   When desire and intention kiss and bruise.
   A cord passed round the body of the mermaid
   Drew her sleeping from the underworld,
   As when the breath of resin like a code
   Rises from some unguarded still, Pomona
   Breathing, surely a little out of breath
   The image disengaging from the block,
   A little out of breath, and wondering
   If art is self-reflection, who he was
   She woke within the side of, what old man
   In his smock and dirty cap of cloth,
   Drinking through trembling fingers now
   A ten year siege of her, the joy in touching
   The moistened flanks of her idea with all
   An old man’s impatience of the carnal wish?
   1948/1948
   ANNIVERSARY
   For T. S. Eliot
   Poetry, science of intimacies,
   In you his early roots drove through
   The barbarian compost of our English
   To sound new veins and marbled all his verses
   Through and through like old black ledgers,
   Hedging in pain by form, and giving
   Quotations from the daily treaty poets make
   With men, possessions or a private demon:
   Became at last this famous solitary
   Sitting at one bleak uncurtained window
   Over wintry London patiently repeating
   That art is determined by its ends
   In conscience and in morals. This was startling.
   Yet marriages might be arranged between
   Old fashions and contemporary disorders.
   Sole student of balance in a falling world
   He helped us mend the little greenstick fractures
   Of our verse, taught polish in austerity.
   Others who know him will add private humours,
   And photographs to albums; taken near Paris,
   Say, drinking among some foreign dons all night
   From leather bubbles in a tavern: a remark
   That silenced a fussy duke: yet these
   Alluding and delimiting can only mystify
   The singer and his mystery more, they do not chain.
   Neither may we ever explain but pointing
   To a new star one needs new vision for
   Like some late hornbeam risen over England,
   Relate it to a single sitting man,
   In a high window there, beside a lamp,
   Some crumpled paper, a disordered bed.
   1980/1948
   THE CRITICS
   They never credit us
   With being bad enough
   The boys that come to edit us:
   Of simply not caring when a prize,
   Something for nothing, comes our way,
   A wife, a mistress, or a holiday
   From People living neckfast in their lies.
   No: Shakespear’s household bills
   Could never be responsible, they say,
   For all the heartbreak and the 1,000 ills
   His work is heir to, poem, sonnet, play …
   Emended readings give the real reason:
   The times were out of joint, the loves, the season.
   Man With A Message—how could you forget
   To read your proofs, the heartache and the fret?
   The copier or the printer
   Must take the blame for it in all
   The variants they will publish by the winter.
   ‘By elision we quarter suffering.’ Too true.
   ‘From images and scansion can be learned.’ …
   Yet under it perhaps may be discerned
   A something else afoot—a Thing
   Lacking both precedent and name and gender:
   An uncreated Weight which left its clue,
   Making him run up bills,
   Making him violent or distrait or tender:
   Leaving for Stratford might have heard It say:
   ‘Tell them I won’t be back on Saturday.
   My wife will understand I’m on a bender.’
   And to himself muttering, muttering: ‘Words
   Added to words multiply the space
   Between this feeling and my expressing It.
   The wires get far too hot. Time smoulders
   Like a burning rug. I will be free.’ …
   And all the time from the donkey’s head
   The lover is whispering: ‘This is not
   What I imagined as Reality.
   If truth were needles surely eyes would see?’
   1948/1948
   PHILEREMO
   A philosopher in search of human values
   Might have seen something in the coarse
   Black boots the guide wore when he led us:
   Boots with cracked eyes and introspective
   Laces, rich in historical error as this
   Old wall we picked the moss from, reading
   Into it invasions by the Dorians or Medes.
   But the bearded arboreal historian
   Saw nothing of it all, was nothing the 
					     					 			n.
   His education had derailed the man
   Until he moved, a literary reminiscence,
   Through quotations only, fine as hair.
   The stones spoke to him. Reflected there
   In a cistern I heard you thinking: Europe
   Also, the whole of our egopetal culture
   Is done for and must vanish soon.
   And still we have not undergone the poet’s truth.
   Could he comfort us in more than this
   Blue sea and air cohering blandly
   Across that haze of flats,
   The smoking middens of our history—
   Aware perhaps only of the two children
   Asleep in the car beside a bear in cotton gloves?
   1948/1948
   SONG FOR ZARATHUSTRA
   Le saltimbanque is coming with
   His heels behind his head.
   His smile is mortuary and
   His whole expression dead.
   The acrobat, the acrobat,
   Demanding since the Fall
   Little enough but hempen stuff
   To climb and hang us all.
   Mysterious inventions like
   The trousers and the hat
   Bewitched our real intentions:
   We sewed the fig-leaves flat.
   Man sewed his seven pockets
   Upon his hairy clothes
   But woman in her own white flesh
   Has one she seldom shows.
   An aperture on anguish,
   A keyhole on disgrace:
   The features stay grimacing
   Upon the mossy face.
   A cup without a handle
   A staff without a crook,
   The sawdust in the golly’s head,