KING
Thanks,
Rosencrantz and gentle Guildenstern.
QUEEN
Thanks,
Guildenstern and gentle Rosencrantz.
"Sie
ist der hellste Stern von allen, hier
kommt
die Sonne..." hier I sit again—
tambien y Also, not as in as well,
but
so , or thus, as in Herr Nietzsche's Buch
and
Strauss's tondichtung, and
not that Strauss
who
made The Blue Danube, but Richard, he
who
hymnd w his triumphant brass and chords
the
Cosmos ere that cinematic wizard
Kubrick
borrowd them and also made
those
notes Eternal— Sing, then, muse of song,
Apollo,
he whose son usurped the reins
and
drove the sun across the vaulted dome
that spans the Earth, like Icarus, whose father
watchd
him fashion wings: both vainly fell
for
their ambition, like that fiend of old,
the
brightest angel Lucifer, by Milton
glorified
who told in his 12 books
of
that archangel's ancient hate and fall
with
his one third the populous of Heaven,
who
warrd with monumental engines, strove
with
futile energy and negative power
against
the greater Seraphim and hosts
immeasurable,
when One born in the Light
and
coeternal with the Lord enthroned,
greater
than Michael, mightiest of angels,
Him
to be brought low and born of woman
in
Bethlehem, that tender Nazarene
Who
wanderd weakend in the flesh of men,
constraind
to poverty and mildest temper,
Who,
puissant on high and formed of might,
drove
Satan and his hosts to depths of woe
and
dark regret: Like that, he sd, and I:
There
is a painting of young Phaethon
downtumbling
from the sky, by Johann Liss,
and
flabby bodies, nigh on corpulent,
watching
in terror and astonishment.
Better
the scene envisiond by Brueghel
and
later immortalized by Wystan Hugh,
of
Icarus, an object in the distance;
better
that Rosencrantz and Guildenstern
should
move to center stage and Hamlet brood
alone
in wafty castle corridors.
But
wherefor, is the question Reynolds puts,
and
Midway: Few get saccharine violins
and
windy music as the credits roll,
as
teary-eyed invigorated viewers
rise
and, clutching empty popcorn boxes,
walk
the graded carpet to the square
of
light that takes them back under the sun
and
to the ordinary. Many pine
and
everything goes foul; and every day
a
question forms its curved, quizzical mark
in
that Platonic plane where Absolutes
exist
unquestionably and absolutely,
of
that material of which the World
is
made, or should we say, is in the making,
the
Light, the Waters, and the Firmament,
and
all that creepeth on the field One made
Who
knows the field and Is its Knower, One
Who
sees the salamander in the ground
beneath
the stones we overturnd, the cool
wet
soil where wiggld worms, where went
the
multipedald centipede and ant,
Also
observed and numberd, as the hairs
upon
our heads, so warnd the lamblike Christ
Who
was His Father's embassy on Earth—
O
Word made flesh, Who also sees the scales
of
fish flash in the Waters, and the spume
of
whales, Who walkd the lake of Galilee,
and
in the garden of Gethsemane
cried
on the Father, Abba, Adonai,
and
chastend Peter, who denied him thrice,
and, kissd by Judas, went to pay the price
of
our salvation, bound, a criminal,
spat
on and scourgd. O Lord, my Saviour, Christ,
let
me be chastend also, make me love
all
those that hate me, let me speak of them
who
in this minute, while my fingers move,
are
trappd in desperation's snares, whose hearts
have
not Thee, who are in despair, whom hope
has
left, who wear the woven shoes of Sorrow,
who
go w soundless and w sudden feet
and over Goldengrove unleaving mourn
and
live in darkness. Grant these, Lord, Thy light
and
gentle hand, in Thee reborn.
7.2.14
