Poems of Emile Verhaeren Part 8

Unending oscillation betwixt newer and for aye!

Tumults consumed in whirlpools of speed and sound and light-- Violence we nought may reck of!--and yet there falls from thence The vast, unbroken silence, mysterious and intense That makes the peace, the calmness and beauty of the night!

O spheres of flame and golden, always more far and high; Abyss to abyss still floating, onward from shade to shade!

So far, so high, all reck'ning the wisdom of man has made, Before those giddy numbers must shrink in his hands and die!

Shining in dim transparence, the whole of infinity lies Behind the veils that the finger of radiant winter weaves; And down on us falls the foliage of star in glittering sheaves, From out the depths of the forest, the forest obscure of the skies.

LIFE

To see beauty in all, is to lift our own Soul Up to loftier heights than do chose who aspire Through culpable suffering, vanquished desire.

Harsh Reality, dread and ineffable Whole, Distils her red draught, enough tonic and stern To intoxicate heads and to make the heart burn.

O clean and pure grain, whence are purged all the tares!

Clear torch, chosen out amid many whose flame; Though ancient in splendour, is false to its name!

It is good to keep step, though beset with hard cares, With the life that is real, to the far distant goal, With no arm save the lucid, white pride of one's soul!

To march, thus intrepid in confidence, straight On the obstacle, holding the stubborn hope Of conquering, thanks to firm blows of the will, Of intelligence prompt, or of patience to wait; And to feel growing stronger within us the sense, Day by day, of a power superb and intense!

To love ourselves keenly those others within Who share a like strife with us, soar without fear Toward that one future, whose footsteps we hear; To love them, heart, brain, and because we are kin Because in some dark, maddened day they have known One anguish, one mourning, one string with our own!

To be drunk with the great human battle of wills-- --Pale, fleeting reflex of the monstrous a.s.saults, Golden movements of planets in heaven's high vaults-- Till one lives in all that which acts, struggles, and thrills, And avidly opens one's heart to the law That rules, dread and stern, the whole universe o'er!

JOY

O splendid, s.p.a.cious day, irradiate With flaming dawns, when earth shows yet more fair Her ardent beauty, proud, without alloy; And wakening life breathes out her perfume rare So potently, that, all intoxicate, Our ravished being rushes upon joy!

Be thanked, mine eyes, that now Ye still shine clear beneath my furrowed brow To see afar, the light vibrating there; And you my hands, that in the sun yet thrill, And you, my fingers, that glow golden still Among the golden fruit upon the wall Where hollyhocks stand tall.

Be thanked, my body, that thyself dost bear Yet firm and swift, and quivering to the touch Of the quick breezes or of winds profound; And you, straight frame, and lungs outbreathing wide, Along the sh.o.r.e or on the mountain-side, The sharp and radiant air That bathes and grips the mighty worlds around!

O festal mornings, calm in loveliness, Rose whose pure face the dewdrops all caress, Birds flying toward us, like some presage white, Gardens of sombre shade or frailest light!

What time the ample summer warms the glade, I love you, roads, by which came hither late She who held hidden in her hands my fate.

I love you, distant marshes, woods austere, And to its depths, I love the earth, where here Beneath my feet, my dead to rest are laid.

So I exist in all that doth surround And penetrate me:--all this gra.s.sy ground, These hidden paths, and many a copse of beech: Clear water, that no clouding shadows reach: You have become to me Myself, because you are my memory.

In you my life prolonged for ever seems, I shape, I am, all that hath filled my dreams; In that horizon vast that dazzles me, Trees shimmering with gold, my pride are ye; And like the knots upon your trunk, my will Strengthens my power to sane, stanch labour still.

Rose of the pearl-hued gardens, when you kiss My brow, a touch of living flame it is; To me all seems One thrill of ardour, beauty, wild caress; And I, in this world-drunkenness, So multiply myself in all that gleams On dazzled eyes, That my heart, fainting, vents itself in cries.

O leaps of fervour, strong, profound, and sweet, As though some great wing swept thee off thy feet!

If thou hast felt them upward hearing thee Toward infinity, Complain not, man, even in the evil day; Whate'er disaster takes thee for her prey Thou to thyself shalt say That once, for one short instant all supreme Which time may not destroy, Thou yet hast tasted, with quick-beating heart, Sweet, formidable joy; And that thy soul, beguiling thee to set As in a dream, Hath fused thy very being's inmost part With the unanimous great founts of power And that that day supreme, that single hour, Hath made a G.o.d of thee.