(6) THE PURE FURY

 

1 (a) Stupor of knowledge lacking inwardness — What book, O learned man, will set me right? Once I read nothing through a fearful night, For every meaning had grown meaningless. Morning, I saw the world with second sight, As if all things had died, and rose again. I touched the stones, and they had my own skin.

2 (a) The pure admire the pure, and live alone; I love a woman with an empty face. Parmenides put Nothingness in place; She tries to think, and it flies lose again. How slow the changes of a golden mean: Great Boehme rated all in Yes or No; At times my darling squeaks, in pure Plato.

3 (a) How terrible the need for solitude — That appetite for life so ravenous I taste my sister when I kiss my wife; I drink good liquor when my luck is good. A drunkard drinks, and belches in his drink; Such order tames eternity, I think.

4 (a) Is pain a promise? I was schooled in pain, And found out all I could of all desire; I weep for what I’m like when I’m alone. In the deep center of the voice and fire.

(b) I know the motion of the deepest store. Each one’s himself, yet each one’s everyone. I’m tired of probing in my neighbor’s soul;

7 (a) My friends become more Christian, year by year. Small waters run toward a miry hole — That is not a thing I’m saying with a sneer — For water moves until it’s purified, And the weak bridegroom strengthens in his bride.

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