To smother the wry spirit’s misery.

  Inhale the purple fragrance. It becomes

  Almost a nigger fragment, a mystique

  For the spirit left helpless by the intelligence.

  There’s a moment in the year, Solange,

  When the deep breath fetches another year of life.

  METAMORPHOSIS

  Yillow, yillow, yillow,

  Old worm, my pretty quirk,

  How the wind spells out

  Sep - tem - ber.…

  Summer is in bones.

  Cock-robin’s at Caracas.

  Make o, make o, make o,

  Oto - otu - bre.

  And the rude leaves fall.

  The rain falls. The sky

  Falls and lies with the worms.

  The street lamps

  Are those that have been hanged,

  Dangling in an illogical

  To and to and fro

  Fro Niz - nil - imbo.

  CONTRARY THESES (I)

  Now grapes are plush upon the vines.

  A soldier walks before my door.

  The hives are heavy with the combs.

  Before, before, before my door.

  And seraphs cluster on the domes,

  And saints are brilliant in fresh cloaks.

  Before, before, before my door.

  The shadows lessen on the walls.

  The bareness of the house returns.

  An acid sunlight fills the halls.

  Before, before. Blood smears the oaks.

  A soldier stalks before my door.

  PHOSPHOR READING BY HIS OWN LIGHT

  It is difficult to read. The page is dark.

  Yet he knows what it is that he expects.

  The page is blank or a frame without a glass

  Or a glass that is empty when he looks.

  The greenness of night lies on the page and goes

  Down deeply in the empty glass…

  Look, realist, not knowing what you expect.

  The green falls on you as you look,

  Falls on and makes and gives, even a speech.

  And you think that that is what you expect,

  That elemental parent, the green night,

  Teaching a fusky alphabet.

  THE SEARCH FOR SOUND FREE FROM MOTION

  All afternoon the gramophone

  Parl-parled the West-Indian weather.

  The zebra leaves, the sea

  And it all spoke together.

  The many-stanzaed sea, the leaves

  And it spoke all together.

  But you, you used the word,

  Your self its honor.

  All afternoon the gramaphoon,

  All afternoon the gramaphoon,

  The world as word,

  Parl-parled the West-Indian hurricane.

  The world lives as you live,

  Speaks as you speak, a creature that

  Repeats its vital words, yet balances

  The syllable of a syllable.

  JUMBO

  The trees were plucked like iron bars

  And jumbo, the loud general-large

  Singsonged and singsonged, wildly free.

  Who was the musician, fatly soft

  And wildly free, whose clawing thumb

  Clawed on the ear these consonants?

  Who the transformer, himself transformed,

  Whose single being, single form

  Were their resemblances to ours?

  The companion in nothingness,

  Loud, general, large, fat, soft

  And wild and free, the secondary man,

  Cloud-clown, blue painter, sun as horn,

  Hill-scholar, man that never is,

  The bad-bespoken lacker,

  Ancestor of Narcissus, prince

  Of the secondary men. There are no rocks

  And stones, only this imager.

  CONTRARY THESES (II)

  One chemical afternoon in mid-autumn,

  When the grand mechanics of earth and sky were near,

  Even the leaves of the locust were yellow then,

  He walked with his year-old boy on his shoulder.

  The sun shone and the dog barked and the baby slept.

  The leaves, even of the locust, the green locust.

  He wanted and looked for a final refuge,

  From the bombastic intimations of winter

  And the martyrs à la mode. He walked toward

  An abstract, of which the sun, the dog, the boy

  Were contours. Cold was chilling the wide-moving swans.

  The leaves were falling like notes from a piano.

  The abstract was suddenly there and gone again.

  The negroes were playing football in the park.

  The abstract that he saw, like the locust-leaves, plainly:

  The premiss from which all things were conclusions,

  The noble, Alexandrine verve. The flies

  And the bees still sought the chrysanthemums’ odor.

  THE HAND AS A BEING

  In the first canto of the final canticle,

  Too conscious of too many things at once,

  Our man beheld the naked, nameless dame,

  Seized her and wondered: why beneath the tree

  She held her hand before him in the air,

  For him to see, wove round her glittering hair.

  Too conscious of too many things at once,

  In the first canto of the final canticle,

  Her hand composed him and composed the tree.

  The wind had seized the tree and ha, and ha,

  It held the shivering, the shaken limbs,

  Then bathed its body in the leaping lake.

  Her hand composed him like a hand appeared,

  Of an impersonal gesture, a stranger’s hand.

  He was too conscious of too many things

  In the first canto of the final canticle.

  Her hand took his and drew him near to her.

  Her hair fell on him and the mi-bird flew

  To the ruddier bushes at the garden’s end.

  Of her, of her alone, at last he knew

  And lay beside her underneath the tree.

  OAK LEAVES ARE HANDS

  In Hydaspia, by Howzen,

  Lived a lady, Lady Lowzen,

  For whom what is was other things.

  Flora she was once. She was florid

  A bachelor of feen masquerie,

  Evasive and metamorphorid.

  Mac Mort she had been, ago,

  Twelve-legged in her ancestral hells,

  Weaving and weaving many arms.

  Even now, the centre of something else,

  Merely by putting hand to brow,

  Brooding on centuries like shells.

  As the acorn broods on former oaks

  In memorials of Northern sound,

  Skims the real for its unreal,

  So she in Hydaspia created

  Out of the movement of few words,

  Flora Lowzen invigorated

  Archaic and future happenings,

  In glittering seven-colored changes,

  By Howzen, the chromatic Lowzen.

  EXAMINATION OF THE HERO IN A TIME OF WAR

  I

  Force is my lot and not pink-clustered

  Roma ni Avignon ni Leyden,

  And cold, my element. Death is my

  Master and, without light, I dwell. There

  The snow hangs heavily on the rocks, brought

  By a wind that seeks out shelter from snow. Thus

  Each man spoke in winter. Yet each man spoke of

  The brightness of arms, said Roma wasted

  In its own dirt, said Avignon was

  Peace in a time of peace, said Leyden

  Was always the other mind. The brightness

  Of arms, the will opposed to cold, fate

  In its cavern, wings subtler than any mercy,

  These were the psalter of their sybils.

 
II

  The Got whome we serve is able to deliver

  Us. Good chemistry, good common man, what

  Of that angelic sword? Creature of

  Ten times ten times dynamite, convulsive

  Angel, convulsive shatterer, gun,

  Click, click, the Got whom we serve is able,

  Still, still to deliver us, still magic,

  Still moving yet motionless in smoke, still

  One with us, in the heaved-up noise, still

  Captain, the man of skill, the expert

  Leader, the creator of bursting color

  And rainbow sortilege, the savage weapon

  Against enemies, against the prester,

  Presto, whose whispers prickle the spirit.

  III

  They are sick of each old romance, returning,

  Of each old revolving dance, the music

  Like a euphony in a museum

  Of euphonies, a skin from Nubia,

  A helio-horn. How strange the hero

  To this accurate, exacting eye. Sight

  Hangs heaven with flash drapery. Sight

  Is a museum of things seen. Sight,

  In war, observes each man profoundly.

  Yes. But these sudden sublimations

  Are to combat what his exaltations

  Are to the unaccountable prophet or

  What any fury to its noble centre.

  IV

  To grasp the hero, the eccentric

  On a horse, in a plane, at the piano—

  At the piano, scales, arpeggios

  And chords, the morning exercises,

  The afternoon’s reading, the night’s reflection,

  That’s how to produce a virtuoso.

  The drill of a submarine. The voyage

  Beyond the oyster-beds, indigo

  Shadow, up the great sea and downward

  And darkly beside the vulcanic

  Sea-tower, sea-pinnacles, sea-mountain.

  The signal … The sea-tower, shaken,

  Sways slightly and the pinnacles frisson.

  The mountain collapses. Chopiniana.

  V

  The common man is the common hero.

  The common hero is the hero.

  Imprimatur. But then there’s common fortune,

  Induced by what you will: the entrails

  Of a cat, twelve dollars for the devil,

  A kneeling woman, a moon’s farewell;

  And common fortune, induced by nothing,

  Unwished for, chance, the merest riding

  Of the wind, rain in a dry September,

  The improvisations of the cuckoos

  In a clock-shop.… Soldier, think, in the darkness,

  Repeating your appointed paces

  Between two neatly measured stations,

  Of less neatly measured common-places.

  VI

  Unless we believe in the hero, what is there

  To believe? Incisive what, the fellow

  Of what good. Devise. Make him of mud,

  For every day. In a civiler manner,

  Devise, devise, and make him of winter’s

  Iciest core, a north star, central

  In our oblivion, of summer’s

  Imagination, the golden rescue:

  The bread and wine of the mind, permitted

  In an ascetic room, its table

  Red as a red table-cloth, its windows

  West Indian, the extremest power

  Living and being about us and being

  Ours, like a familiar companion.

  VII

  Gazette Guerrière. A man might happen

  To prefer L’Observateur de la Paix, since

  The hero of the Gazette and the hero

  Of L’Observateur, the classic hero

  And the bourgeois, are different, much.

  The classic changed. There have been many.

  And there are many bourgeois heroes.

  There are more heroes than marbles of them.

  The marbles are pinchings of an idea,

  Yet there is that idea behind the marbles,

  The idea of things for public gardens,

  Of men suited to public ferns … The hero

  Glides to his meeting like a lover

  Mumbling a secret, passionate message.

  VIII

  The hero is not a person. The marbles

  Of Xenophon, his epitaphs, should

  Exhibit Xenophon, what he was, since

  Neither his head nor horse nor knife nor

  Legend were part of what he was, forms

  Of a still-life, symbols, brown things to think of

  In brown books. The marbles of what he was stand

  Like a white abstraction only, a feeling

  In a feeling mass, a blank emotion,

  An anti-pathos, until we call it

  Xenophon, its implement and actor.

  Obscure Satanas, make a model

  Of this element, this force. Transfer it

  Into a barbarism as its image.

  IX

  If the hero is not a person, the emblem

  Of him, even if Xenophon, seems

  To stand taller than a person stands, has

  A wider brow, large and less human

  Eyes and bruted ears: the man-like body

  Of a primitive. He walks with a defter

  And lither stride. His arms are heavy

  And his breast is greatness. All his speeches

  Are prodigies in longer phrases.

  His thoughts begotten at clear sources,

  Apparently in air, fall from him

  Like chantering from an abundant

  Poet, as if he thought gladly, being

  Compelled thereto by an innate music.

  X

  And if the phenomenon, magnified, is

  Further magnified, sua voluntate,

  Beyond his circumstance, projected

  High, low, far, wide, against the distance,

  In parades like several equipages,

  Painted by mad-men, seen as magic,

  Leafed out in adjectives as private

  And peculiar and appropriate glory,

  Even enthroned on rainbows in the sight

  Of the fishes of the sea, the colored

  Birds and people of this too voluminous

  Air-earth—Can we live on dry descriptions,

  Feel everything starving except the belly

  And nourish ourselves on crumbs of whimsy?

  XI

  But a profane parade, the basso

  Preludes a-rub, a-rub-rub, for him that

  Led the emperor astray, the tom trumpets

  Curling round the steeple and the people,

  The elephants of sound, the tigers

  In trombones roaring for the children,

  Young boys resembling pastry, hip-hip,

  Young men as vegetables, hip-hip,

  Home and the fields give praise, hurrah, hip,

  Hip, hip, hurrah. Eternal morning…

  Flesh on the bones. The skeleton throwing

  His crust away eats of this meat, drinks

  Of this tabernacle, this communion,

  Sleeps in the sun no thing recalling.

  XII

  It is not an image. It is a feeling.

  There is no image of the hero.

  There is a feeling as definition.

  How could there be an image, an outline,

  A design, a marble soiled by pigeons?

  The hero is a feeling, a man seen

  As if the eye was an emotion,

  As if in seeing we saw our feeling

  In the object seen and saved that mystic

  Against the sight, the penetrating,

  Pure eye. Instead of allegory,

  We have and are the man, capable

  Of his brave quickenings, the human

  Accelerations that seem inhuman.

  XIII

  These letters of him
for the little,

  The imaginative, ghosts that dally

  With life’s salt upon their lips and savor

  The taste of it, secrete within them

  Too many references. The hero

  Acts in reality, adds nothing

  To what he does. He is the heroic

  Actor and act but not divided.

  It is a part of his conception,

  That he be not conceived, being real.

  Say that the hero is his nation,

  In him made one, and in that saying

  Destroy all references. This actor

  Is anonymous and cannot help it.

  XIV

  A thousand crystals’ chiming voices,

  Like the shiddow-shaddow of lights revolving

  To momentary ones, are blended,

  In hymns, through iridescent changes,

  Of the apprehending of the hero.

  These hymns are like a stubborn brightness

  Approaching in the dark approaches

  Of time and place, becoming certain,

  The organic centre of responses,

  Naked of hindrance, a thousand crystals.

  To meditate the highest man, not

  The highest supposed in him and over,

  Creates, in the blissfuller perceptions,

  What unisons create in music.

  XV

  The highest man with nothing higher

  Than himself, his self, the self that embraces

  The self of the hero, the solar single,

  Man-sun, man-moon, man-earth, man-ocean,

  Makes poems on the syllable fa or