No More Learning

The Grave-Digger




Once, as I was burying one of my dead selves, the grave-digger came
by and said to me, "Of all those who come here to bury, you alone
I like. "

Said I, "You please me exceedingly, but why do you like me? "

"Because," said he, "They come weeping and go weeping--you only
come laughing and go laughing. "





On the Steps of the Temple




Yestereve, on the marble steps of the Temple, I saw a woman sitting
between two men. One side of her face was pale, the other was
blushing.





The Blessed City




In my youth I was told that in a certain city every one lived
according to the Scriptures.

And I said, "I will seek that city and the blessedness thereof. "
And it was far. And I made great provision for my journey. And
after forty days I beheld the city and on the forty-first day I
entered into it.

And lo! the whole company of the inhabitants had each but a single
eye and but one hand. And I was astonished and said to myself,
"Shall they of this so holy city have but one eye and one hand? "

Then I saw that they too were astonished, for they were marveling
greatly at my two hands and my two eyes. And as they were speaking
together I inquired of them saying, "Is this indeed the Blessed
City, where each man lives according to the Scriptures? " And they
said, "Yes, this is that city. "

"And what," said I, "hath befallen you, and where are your right
eyes and your right hands? "

And all the people were moved. And they said, "Come thou and see. "

And they took me to the temple in the midst of the city. And in
the temple I saw a heap of hands and eyes. All withered. Then said
I, "Alas! what conqueror hath committed this cruelty upon you? "

And there went a murmur amongst them. And one of their elders
stood forth and said, "This doing is of ourselves. God hath made
us conquerors over the evil that was in us. "

And he led me to a high altar, and all the people followed. And
he showed me above the altar an inscription graven, and I read:


"If thy right eye offend thee, pluck it out and cast it from thee;
for it is profitable for thee that one of thy members should perish,
and not that the whole body should be cast into hell. And if thy
right hand offend thee, cut it off and cast it from thee; for it
is profitable for thee that one of thy members should perish, and
not that thy whole body should be cast into hell. "


Then I understood. And I turned about to all the people and cried,
"Hath no man or woman among you two eyes or two hands? "

And they answered me saying, "No, not one. There is none whole save
such as are yet too young to read the Scripture and to understand
its commandment. "

And when we had come out of the temple, I straightway left that
Blessed City; for I was not too young, and I could read the scripture.





The Good God and the Evil God




The Good God and the Evil God met on the mountain top.

The Good God said, "Good day to you, brother. "

The Evil God did not answer.

And the Good God said, "You are in a bad humour today. "

"Yes," said the Evil God, "for of late I have been often mistaken
for you, called by your name, and treated as if I were you, and it
ill-pleases me. "

And the Good God said, "But I too have been mistaken for you and
called by your name. "

The Evil God walked away cursing the stupidity of man.





Defeat




Defeat, my Defeat, my solitude and my aloofness;
You are dearer to me than a thousand triumphs,
And sweeter to my heart than all world-glory.

Defeat, my Defeat, my self-knowledge and my defiance,
Through you I know that I am yet young and swift of foot
And not to be trapped by withering laurels.
And in you I have found aloneness
And the joy of being shunned and scorned.

Defeat, my Defeat, my shining sword and shield,
In your eyes I have read
That to be enthroned is to be enslaved,
And to be understood is to be leveled down,
And to be grasped is but to reach one's fullness
And like a ripe fruit to fall and be consumed.

Defeat, my Defeat, my bold companion,
You shall hear my songs and my cries and my silences,
And none but you shall speak to me of the beating of wings,
And urging of seas,
And of mountains that burn in the night,
And you alone shall climb my steep and rocky soul.

Defeat, my Defeat, my deathless courage,
You and I shall laugh together with the storm,
And together we shall dig graves for all that die in us,
And we shall stand in the sun with a will,
And we shall be dangerous.





Night and the Madman




"I am like thee, O, Night, dark and naked; I walk on the flaming
path which is above my day-dreams, and whenever my foot touches
earth a giant oak tree comes forth. "

"Nay, thou art not like me, O, Madman, for thou still lookest
backward to see how large a foot-print thou leavest on the sand. "

"I am like thee, O, Night, silent and deep; and in the heart of
my loneliness lies a Goddess in child-bed; and in him who is being
born Heaven touches Hell. "

"Nay, thou art not like me, O, Madman, for thou shudderest yet
before pain, and the song of the abyss terrifies thee. "

"I am like thee, O, Night, wild and terrible; for my ears are crowded
with cries of conquered nations and sighs for forgotten lands. "

"Nay, thou art not like me, O, Madman, for thou still takest thy
little-self for a comrade, and with thy monster-self thou canst
not be friend. "

"I am like thee, O, Night, cruel and awful; for my bosom is lit
by burning ships at sea, and my lips are wet with blood of slain
warriors. "

"Nay, thou art not like me, O, Madman; for the desire for a
sister-spirit is yet upon thee, and thou has not become alone unto
thyself. "

"I am like thee, O, Night, joyous and glad; for he who dwells in
my shadow is now drunk with virgin wine, and she who follows me is
sinning mirthfully. "

"Nay, thou art not like me, O, Madman, for thy soul is wrapped in
the veil of seven folds and thou holdest not thy heart in thine
hand. "

"I am like thee, O, Night, patient and passionate; for in my breast
a thousand dead lovers are buried in shrouds of withered kisses. "

"Yea, Madman, art thou like me? Art thou like me? And canst thou
ride the tempest as a steed, and grasp the lightning as a sword? "

"Like thee, O, Night, like thee, mighty and high, and my throne is
built upon heaps of fallen Gods; and before me too pass the days
to kiss the hem of my garment but never to gaze at my face. "

"Art thou like me, child of my darkest heart? And dost thou think
my untamed thoughts and speak my vast language? "

"Yea, we are twin brothers, O, Night; for thou revealest space and
I reveal my soul. "





Faces




I have seen a face with a thousand countenances, and a face that
was but a single countenance as if held in a mould.


I have seen a face whose sheen I could look through to the ugliness
beneath, and a face whose sheen I had to lift to see how beautiful
it was.


I have seen an old face much lined with nothing, and a smooth face
in which all things were graven.


I know faces, because I look through the fabric my own eye weaves,
and behold the reality beneath.





The Greater Sea




My soul and I went to the great sea to bathe. And when we reached
the shore, we went about looking for a hidden and lonely place.

But as we walked, we saw a man sitting on a grey rock taking pinches
of salt from a bag and throwing them into the sea.

"This is the pessimist," said my soul, "Let us leave this place.
We cannot bathe here. "

We walked on until we reached an inlet. There we saw, standing
on a white rock, a man holding a bejeweled box, from which he took
sugar and threw it into the sea.

"And this is the optimist," said my soul, "And he too must not see
our naked bodies. "

Further on we walked. And on a beach we saw a man picking up dead
fish and tenderly putting them back into the water.

"And we cannot bathe before him," said my soul. "He is the humane
philanthropist. "

And we passed on.

Then we came where we saw a man tracing his shadow on the sand.
Great waves came and erased it. But he went on tracing it again
and again.

"He is the mystic," said my soul, "Let us leave him. "

And we walked on, till in a quiet cover we saw a man scooping up
the foam and putting it into an alabaster bowl.

"He is the idealist," said my soul, "Surely he must not see our
nudity. "

And on we walked. Suddenly we heard a voice crying, "This is the
sea. This is the deep sea. This is the vast and mighty sea. "
And when we reached the voice it was a man whose back was turned
to the sea, and at his ear he held a shell, listening to its murmur.

And my soul said, "Let us pass on. He is the realist, who turns
his back on the whole he cannot grasp, and busies himself with a
fragment. "

So we passed on. And in a weedy place among the rocks was a man
with his head buried in the sand. And I said to my soul, "We can
bath here, for he cannot see us. "

"Nay," said my soul, "For he is the most deadly of them all. He
is the puritan. "

Then a great sadness came over the face of my soul, and into her
voice.

"Let us go hence," she said, "For there is no lonely, hidden place
where we can bathe. I would not have this wind lift my golden hair,
or bare my white bosom in this air, or let the light disclose my
sacred nakedness. "

Then we left that sea to seek the Greater Sea.





Crucified




I cried to men, "I would be crucified! "

And they said, "Why should your blood be upon our heads? "

And I answered, "How else shall you be exalted except by crucifying
madmen? "

And they heeded and I was crucified. And the crucifixion appeased
me.

And when I was hanged between earth and heaven they lifted up their
heads to see me. And they were exalted, for their heads had never
before been lifted.

But as they stood looking up at me one called out, "For what art
thou seeking to atone? "

And another cried, "In what cause dost thou sacrifice thyself? "

And a third said, "Thinkest thou with this price to buy world
glory? "

Then said a fourth, "Behold, how he smiles! Can such pain be
forgiven? "

And I answered them all, and said:

"Remember only that I smiled. I do not atone--nor sacrifice--nor
wish for glory; and I have nothing to forgive. I thirsted--and I
besought you to give me my blood to drink. For what is there can
quench a madman's thirst but his own blood? I was dumb--and I
asked wounds of you for mouths. I was imprisoned in your days and
nights--and I sought a door into larger days and nights.

And now I go--as others already crucified have gone. And think not
we are weary of crucifixion. For we must be crucified by larger
and yet larger men, between greater earths and greater heavens. "





The Astronomer




In the shadow of the temple my friend and I saw a blind man sitting
alone. And my friend said, "Behold the wisest man of our land. "

Then I left my friend and approached the blind man and greeted him.
And we conversed.

After a while I said, "Forgive my question; but since when has thou
been blind? "

"From my birth," he answered.

Said I, "And what path of wisdom followest thou? "

Said he, "I am an astronomer. "

Then he placed his hand upon his breast saying, "I watch all these
suns and moons and stars. "





The Great Longing




Here I sit between my brother the mountain and my sister the sea.

We three are one in loneliness, and the love that binds us together
is deep and strong and strange. Nay, it is deeper than my sister's
depth and stronger than my brother's strength, and stranger than
the strangeness of my madness.

Aeons upon aeons have passed since the first grey dawn made us
visible to one another; and though we have seen the birth and the
fullness and the death of many worlds, we are still eager and young.

We are young and eager and yet we are mateless and unvisited, and
though we lie in unbroken half embrace, we are uncomforted. And
what comfort is there for controlled desire and unspent passion?
Whence shall come the flaming god to warm my sister's bed? And
what she-torrent shall quench my brother's fire? And who is the
woman that shall command my heart?

In the stillness of the night my sister murmurs in her sleep the
fire-god's unknown name, and my brother calls afar upon the cool
and distant goddess. But upon whom I call in my sleep I know not.

* * * * * * * * *

Here I sit between my brother the mountain and my sister the sea.
We three are one in loneliness, and the love that binds us together
is deep and strong and strange.





Said a Blade of Grass




Said a blade of grass to an autumn leaf, "You make such a noise
falling! You scatter all my winter dreams. "

Said the leaf indignant, "Low-born and low-dwelling! Songless,
peevish thing! You live not in the upper air and you cannot tell
the sound of singing. "

Then the autumn leaf lay down upon the earth and slept. And when
spring came she waked again--and she was a blade of grass.

And when it was autumn and her winter sleep was upon her, and
above her through all the air the leaves were falling, she muttered
to herself, "O these autumn leaves! They make such noise! They
scatter all my winter dreams. "





The Eye




Said the Eye one day, "I see beyond these valleys a mountain veiled
with blue mist. Is it not beautiful? "

The Ear listened, and after listening intently awhile, said, "But
where is any mountain? I do not hear it. "

Then the Hand spoke and said, "I am trying in vain to feel it or
touch it, and I can find no mountain. "

And the Nose said, "There is no mountain, I cannot smell it. "

Then the Eye turned the other way, and they all began to talk together
about the Eye's strange delusion. And they said, "Something must
be the matter with the Eye. "





The Two Learned Men




Once there lived in the ancient city of Afkar two learned men who
hated and belittled each other's learning. For one of them denied
the existence of the gods and the other was a believer.

One day the two met in the marketplace, and amidst their followers
they began to dispute and to argue about the existence or the
non-existence of the gods. And after hours of contention they
parted.

That evening the unbeliever went to the temple and prostrated himself
before the altar and prayed the gods to forgive his wayward past.

And the same hour the other learned man, he who had upheld the
gods, burned his sacred books. For he had become an unbeliever.





When My Sorrow Was Born




When my Sorrow was born I nursed it with care, and watched over it
with loving tenderness.

And my Sorrow grew like all living things, strong and beautiful
and full of wondrous delights.

And we loved one another, my Sorrow and I, and we loved the world
about us; for Sorrow had a kindly heart and mine was kindly with
Sorrow.

And when we conversed, my Sorrow and I, our days were winged and
our nights were girdled with dreams; for Sorrow had an eloquent
tongue, and mine was eloquent with Sorrow.

And when we sang together, my Sorrow and I, our neighbors sat at
their windows and listened; for our songs were deep as the sea and
our melodies were full of strange memories.

And when we walked together, my Sorrow and I, people gazed at us
with gentle eyes and whispered in words of exceeding sweetness.
And there were those who looked with envy upon us, for Sorrow was
a noble thing and I was proud with Sorrow.

But my Sorrow died, like all living things, and alone I am left to
muse and ponder.

And now when I speak my words fall heavily upon my ears.

And when I sing my songs my neighbours come not to listen.

And when I walk the streets no one looks at me.

Only in my sleep I hear voices saying in pity, "See, there lies
the man whose Sorrow is dead. "





And When my Joy was Born




And when my Joy was born, I held it in my arms and stood on the
house-top shouting, "Come ye, my neighbours, come and see, for Joy
this day is born unto me. Come and behold this gladsome thing that
laugheth in the sun. "

But none of my neighbours came to look upon my Joy, and great was
my astonishment.

And every day for seven moons I proclaimed my Joy from the
house-top--and yet no one heeded me. And my Joy and I were alone,
unsought and unvisited.

Then my Joy grew pale and weary because no other heart but mine
held its loveliness and no other lips kissed its lips.

Then my Joy died of isolation.

And now I only remember my dead Joy in remembering my dead Sorrow.
But memory is an autumn leaf that murmurs a while in the wind and
then is heard no more.





"The Perfect World"




God of lost souls, thou who are lost amongst the gods, hear me:

Gentle Destiny that watchest over us, mad, wandering spirits, hear
me:

I dwell in the midst of a perfect race, I the most imperfect.

I, a human chaos, a nebula of confused elements, I move amongst
finished worlds--peoples of complete laws and pure order, whose
thoughts are assorted, whose dreams are arranged, and whose visions
are enrolled and registered.

Their virtues, O God, are measured, their sins are weighed, and
even the countless things that pass in the dim twilight of neither
sin nor virtue are recorded and catalogued.

Here days and night are divided into seasons of conduct and governed
by rules of blameless accuracy.

To eat, to drink, to sleep, to cover one's nudity, and then to be
weary in due time.

To work, to play, to sing, to dance, and then to lie still when
the clock strikes the hour.
To think thus, to feel thus much, and then to cease thinking and
feeling when a certain star rises above yonder horizon.

To rob a neighbour with a smile, to bestow gifts with a graceful
wave of the hand, to praise prudently, to blame cautiously, to
destroy a sound with a word, to burn a body with a breath, and then
to wash the hands when the day's work is done.

To love according to an established order, to entertain one's best
self in a preconceived manner, to worship the gods becomingly,
to intrigue the devils artfully--and then to forget all as though
memory were dead.

To fancy with a motive, to contemplate with consideration, to be
happy sweetly, to suffer nobly--and then to empty the cup so that
tomorrow may fill it again.

All these things, O God, are conceived with forethought, born with
determination, nursed with exactness, governed by rules, directed
by reason, and then slain and buried after a prescribed method.
And even their silent graves that lie within the human soul are
marked and numbered.

It is a perfect world, a world of consummate excellence, a world of
supreme wonders, the ripest fruit in God's garden, the master-thought
of the universe.

But why should I be here, O God, I a green seed of unfulfilled
passion, a mad tempest that seeketh neither east nor west, a
bewildered fragment from a burnt planet?

Why am I here, O God of lost souls, thou who art lost amongst the gods?








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