Morning Star

Do I wish

to see myself as I am?

beguiled; vanquished; fugitive

do you

remember

the Morning Star?

There will be no transformation of the world

but by transformation of self

through atonement

The child separates the parents

I am but small, and naked

A fire ignites the thicket

at the centre

of the world

O! Sun

O! Moon, O! Stars

But O,

O! the Earth

Demoniac powers

at the bidding of their antigod

bring about the downfall of paradise

Madly they laugh

Laughing, they sing

And they sing of yellow feathers;

of red shells and drink

of blue intoxication

They sing for sin

and for the green grave of the warrior

They sing of the goddess-harlot

and her son-lover

Like that every warrior be sown

as seed for the harvest

O mother, my mother!

Thy mantle of snakes;

Once, I was the flower of princes

when bright, the eagle

devoured that dark serpent

and bright upon him his feathers grew

Now, how shines this skull in the shadow!

How fragrant, the flower that was crushed

and brought forth seed

Mother, I am but small

Mother, I am but double

where thou ever art whole

The fire consumes the thicket

and

I am become my father

In this act

I am beguiled,

I am vanquished,

I am fugitive

the black horse lies willingly down

and bleeds for rain

By transformation of self

through atonement

my heart is made fruit

in fields of green,

rain-wash’d and springing

with seed

All fruit is sacrificed,

for

the secret of eternal life

is eternal death

Remember

the Morning

Star