Book Read Free

New Collected Poems

Page 20

by David Gascoyne


  No movement, no repose,

  But only perfect prescience

  Of the Becoming of the Whole.

  [Voice]

  The seed springs from us into flower; yet none can tell

  At what hour late or early those concealed furled leaves

  And multifoliate petals shall outgrow their tender shell.

  [Choir]

  The hour is unknown:

  The hour endures:

  The hour strikes every hour.

  IV

  [Voice]

  Each hour of life is glorious and vain.

  O thirst and glorious unsatisfied

  Lamenting cry! How vain the short relief

  And unabiding refuge from the tide

  That nearer crawls each day across the sands

  On which our house is founded! Vanity

  Of vanities, all things held by our hands!

  Beyond their reach, with diamond-rays, and high

  Above the furthest fields of ether lies

  The core of glory, only ascertained

  By inward opening of Death’s deep eye

  And outward flight of Spirit long sustained:

  [Choir: distantly echoing]

  By wings the swift flames of the funeral pile

  Are fanned … Dead faces guard a secret smile.

  w. 1938–40, p. 1956

  STROPHES ÉLÉGIAQUES À LA MÉMOIRE D’ALBAN BERG (1885-1935)

  The titles of the first, second and fourth parts of the following sequence were taken from Berg’s Lyric Suite. Lines 14 and 15 of the third part are a quotation from a poem in Baudelaire’s sequence ‘Le Vin’, which was set to music by Berg as a cantata. Two earlier versions of these Strophes were written in English, but were not satisfactory enough to be printed. The following version, written in 1939, three years after the original impulse, appeared in Cahiers du Sud in January 1940. D.G.

  Andante Amoroso

  Souvenir d’un musicien: des cordes lyriques

  Soulèvent des draps de brume et l’ouïe est entrainée

  Parmi des perspectives dissolvantes où son élégie

  Fleurit comme une couronne qu’arrosent des pleurs

  De sons: orchidées couleur d’ecchymose, et roses

  Flétries, fleurs de la passion, une gerbe flottante

  Lente à travers la vue des yeux fermés.

  Sa musique est une pluie qui rafraîchit

  Les cyprès seuls parmis ces rochers gris,

  Trouble comme l’amour dans la mémoire les airs

  Du soir, à l’heure où la hantise et l’obsession,

  Figures du passé, glissent comme des têtes coupées

  Sur les courants du crépuscule lointain

  De Cimmérie, refuge des ombres perdues.

  L’illusion tremble. En haut, aigües

  Des lames de lumière crue incisent les cieux;

  Et au-dessous, autour d’un lac de plomb

  Le vent agite des roseaux dissonants;

  Des vagues concentriques frappent le bord de l’eau

  Comme les échos d’un cri désespéré.

  Très vite s’envolent des oiseaux comme des flèches.

  Tenebroso

  Les grandes plaines où les routes sont comme des veines,

  Les rangs de montagnes et les lacs réfléchissants,

  Même les prairies les plus vides ou fleuries

  Portent l’ombre énorme du Zeitgeist, qui menace

  Avec ses nuages noirs de sort solides

  Toutes les moissons; les saisons ne font plus

  Qu’illustrer les phases des luttes humaines.

  Et au-dessûs du chaos des grandes villes

  Qui gonfle le continent, la noirceur des ceux pèse

  Comme un jugement sur toutes les rues-prisons

  Où rôdent encore les peurs de l’ancienne nuit

  Avec des uniformes, des bâtons, des fusils,

  Et où la folie couve ses fantaisies

  De persécutés, d’espions, d’élus de Dieu.

  Nous couchés sans sommeil dans nos chambres séparées

  Nous écoutons un fracas comme de trains-fantômes

  Se précipitant vers le bout de nos souffrances;

  Et tandis que leur tonnerre ruine nos rêves on se demande

  Quel grand minuit peut être le but de leurs roues chaudes,

  Quel signe pourrait empêcher tout espoir comme un train fou

  De se dérailler dans la tête de l’homme.

  Intermezzo

  Tout chant est triomphe et toute plainte

  Est réconciliation. Brûle encore,

  Brûle, O lyre du larynx, guérisse le tourment

  Qui ne sait pas trouver une sortie

  Parmi le labyrinthe de la poitrine. Encore

  Plongez-vous dans la mélodie, O ailes sonores

  A la recherche de repos et de paix.

  Toute plainte est réconciliation

  Avec le lamentable, et sait résoudre

  Les pleurs et les ruines, la maladie

  Des empires, dans des arabesques

  De cancereuse corruption et de pluie

  D’étincelante semence stérile, tels que

  ‘Les sons d’une musique énervante et câline,

  ‘Semblable au cri lointain de l’humaine douleur;’

  Et une telle musique peut nous consoler

  De la condition damnée, la blessure secrète,

  Qui grimpant vers le silence à travers l’oreille

  Invisible de l’espace, avec des chants brûlés

  Dans les royaumes de l’inouï créé de lointains

  Paysages, exaltés et profonds.

  Misterioso

  Il se hâte vers sa fin, le requiem

  Que des événements inconnus doivent interrompre;

  Prémonitoires de la rupture les cordes forcées

  A travers tous les tons par le vent rude

  De l’angoisse! et répétition de pressentiments

  Intérieurs: ces fusées d’étoiles rouges et

  L’Etoile de la Mort au milieu qui projette

  Sur nous la paralysie de ses rayons pénétrants

  Jusqu’au recoin le plus secret de l’âme,

  Là où coupable le miroir tourne

  Sans cesse et ne cesse pas de rendre

  Des images deformées de notre détresse: telle la fumée

  Qui accompagne la Bête hors de l’abîme, l’agneau

  Meurtri, et ces chevaliers aux quatre couleurs criantes …

  Mais toutes les visions surgies hors du temps

  Se fanent enfin; ne peuvent nullement cacher

  La révélation de la nudité affreuse

  De l’homme tragique divisé en lui-même

  Qui maintenant doit monter sur l’échafaud de son trône

  Et porter une couronne de feu, et être trahi, tomber

  Dans les ténèbres du mythe pour retrouver son Christ.

  Epilogue: 1939

  Les vrais témoins ne sont plus aujourd’hui

  Ecoutés, le silence les cache

  (En était un celui qu’on commémore

  Ici: en exil son esprit,

  Sa ville natale perdue

  Aux barbares bruns et noirs, et ses partitions

  Verboten comme un scandale dangereux).

  Villes glorieuses de la musique, de l’art,

  Vienne, Salzburg et Prague, des millepieds

  Chaussés de fer ont envahi vos rues,

  L’araignée hideuse de la croix gammée

  Partout suspend ses toiles; ce sont des rats

  Qui font la musique de chambre dans vos chambres;

  Et dans vos jardins ombrageux se cachent les loups.

  Elle s’agrandit toujours la tache

  Flagrante, et déshonore l’histoire.

  Les injustes règnent, leurs orateurs perfides

  Rendent sourd le peuple tandis que tombent les haches.

  Mais hors de l’avenir quel orage effrayant

  Va effacer leurs
dernières traces avec ses foudres!

  Les vrais témoins nous resteront toujours.

  w. Eté 1939, p. 1940

  A VAGRANT AND OTHER POEMS

  (1950)

  A VAGRANT

  ‘Mais il n’a point parlé, mais cette année encore

  Heure par heure en vain lentement tombera.’

  ALFRED DE VIGNY

  ‘They’re much the same in most ways, these great cities. Of them all,

  Speaking of those I’ve seen, this one’s still far the best

  Big densely built-up area for a man to wander in

  Should he have ceased to find shelter, relief,

  Or dream in sanatorium bed; should nothing as yet call

  Decisively to him to put an end to brain’s

  Proliferations round the possibilities that eat

  Up adolescence, even years up to the late

  Thirtieth birthday; should no one seem to wait

  His coming, to pop out at last and bark

  Briskly: “A most convenient solution has at last

  Been found, after the unavoidable delay due to this spate of wars

  That we’ve been having lately. This is it:

  Just fill in (in block letters) on the dotted-line your name

  And number. From now on until you die all is

  O.K., meaning the clockwork’s been adjusted to accommodate

  You nicely; all you need’s to eat and sleep,

  To sleep and eat and eat and laugh and sleep,

  And sleep and laugh and wake up every day

  Fresh as a raffia daisy!” I already wake each day

  Without a bump or too much morning sickness to routine

  Which although without order wears the will out just as well

  As this job-barker’s programme would. His line may in the end

  Provide me with a noose with which to hang myself, should I

  Discover that the strain of doing nothing is too great

  A price to pay for spiritual integrity. The soul

  Is said by some to be a bourgeois luxury, which shows

  A strange misunderstanding both of soul and bourgeoisie.

  The Sermon on the Mount is just as often misconstrued

  By Marxists as by wealthy congregations, it would seem.

  The “Modern Man in Search of Soul” appears

  A comic criminal or an unbalanced bore to those

  Whose fear of doing something foolish fools them. Je m’en fous!

  Blessèd are they, it might be said, who are not of this race

  Of settled average citizens secure in their état

  Civil of snowy guiltlessness and showy high ideals

  Permitting them achieve an inexpensive lifelong peace

  Of mind, through dogged persistence, frequent aspirin, and bile

  Occasionally vented via trivial slander … Baa,

  Baa, O sleepysickness-rotted sheep, in your nice fold

  Are none but marketable fleeces. I my lot

  Prefer to cast at once away right in

  Among the stone-winning lone wolves whose future cells

  Shall make home-founding unworthwhile. Unblessèd let me go

  And join the honest tribe of patient prisoners and ex-

  Convicts, and all such victims of the guilt

  Society dare not admit its own. I would not strike

  The pose of one however who might in a chic ballet

  Perform an apache role in rags of cleverly-cut silk.

  Awkward enough, awake, yet although anxious still just sane,

  I stand still in my quasi-dereliction, or but stray

  Slowly along the quais towards the ends of afternoons

  That lead to evenings empty of engagements, or at night

  Lying resigned in cosy-corner crow’s-nest, listen long

  To sounds of the surrounding city desultorily

  Seeking in loud distraction some relief from what its nerves

  Are gnawed by: I mean knowledge of its lack of raison d’être.

  The city’s lack and mine are much the same. What, oh what can

  A Vagrant hope to find to take the place of what was once

  Our expectation of the Human City in which each man might

  Morning and evening, every day, lead his own life, and Man’s?’

  p. 1948

  INNOCENCE AND EXPERIENCE

  Beneath the well-born weak-lined gentle flesh

  Its firmly-moulded bonework did much to sustain

  This face’s actively upheld nobility. I had the time

  To gaze upon a late transmuted beauty

  Known none too kindly to the North in our cold time.

  Yet I knew warmth was there, where were born both

  Her Southern mildness and Repression’s bleakest whim,

  Which is to spoil the good with greatness, till it do its best

  To die in surfeit of a passion lean as sin.

  I still knew of her nothing less than this,

  She could well have played Portia in Spanish

  Making it seem a Terry had conceived

  To play the cello to a foreign bard’s guitar.

  Attentive, I beheld a less premeditated look

  Melting the mask till one could see it once had worn

  The serene, robust air as of never-rebuked gaiety

  That shakes like laughter round a regally-loved child;

  And saw her clamber up, her will supported

  By the arms of his gold braid-adorned dark dignity,

  Till safe in peril perching, from the lofty balustrade

  She overlooked a square where waved and roared

  In passionate approval of political Papa

  The population, it appeared, of the then nascent State.

  She’d come down to the mezzanine in person

  To welcome us, dismissed the footman, stepped

  With lifted dress-train held bunched at the knees

  Into the ivory-panelled gilt-grilled lift;

  Dismissed her maid on reaching the third floor

  And shown us down a quite dark passage, hung

  With glass-masked pastels – Redon, Morisot, maybe, –

  To her most private salon. One could tell

  At once how long she must have sat alone,

  Sad lady, with the back of her fauteuil

  Turned to the uncommunicative view

  Of drear palatial faubourg roofs displayed

  Between portentous casement draperies,

  There in that room the hotel’s master had

  But seldom entered, though his youth’s collections here

  As elsewhere were the source of all that caught

  The roving eye: a Degas statuette,

  A hand-high Rodin piece; upon the wall

  Above the fireplace, a nice Géricault –

  Two Turkish ladies, or baigneuses; some fine

  Old pots, and a miraculously carved

  Ivory ball within a ball within a ball

  That stood upon the escritoire, still piled

  With business correspondence that no secretary

  Could have availed much to diminish. ‘How

  Long it must be now since we last –

  When was it? Oh, the Occupation? Yes,

  I remained here all the time, I held

  The fort. A long grim winter. But Eugène,

  Of course, had other things to occupy

  In South America his busy mind, than my

  Predicament. Nothing changed him; simply we

  Became “loyally indifferent”; or I trust I so appeared.’

  Under the weight of false presuppositions hanging round

  Upon all three of us, the other lady frowned (touched too; too tired) –

  Her constant lit cheroot let fall a not entirely

  Inappropriate tiny elegy of ash. Three enigmatic masks.

  Outside upon the Plaza, the huge crowd still waved and waved!

  ‘God gives us all, yet no one asks


  What it is given for …’

  p. 1950

  PHOTOGRAPH

  To Philippe Soupault

  Whatever you were looking at when Abbott’s camera clicked,

  It hardly wore the likeness, I suppose, that you wear now;

  Yet its reality can hardly have been other than the one

  That we both recognize at present, which is made real

  By us and all who truly live in it. Your eyes

  Are clear, more clear and keen than what they see, and gaze through pain,

  Frustration and the future of futility. They look

  Straight into the hid heart of whatsoever lies ahead, with active trust,

  With scepticism and with the tried affection that cannot ever be

  Made disappointed by its object’s failures. You will thus always be aware

  That what is true is lovable, and you in knowing this

  Will have become one in whose love the love of others may find rest.

  c. 1950

  REPORTED MISSING

  At the end of the sunny, polished corridor

  I opened a door I had not seen before

  And stepped into a room in which the air

  Had long been undisturbed but was not stale but

  Sleepy sweet and half-familiar, half

  Reminiscent of another time and life. There were

  Bookshelves and two deep basket chairs, that faced

  Each other, though the bed was single, spread

  With a soft paisley-patterned cloth, no more to be

  Unmade. The view from the dormer window, creeper-fringed,

  Was the best in the house. Upon the mantelshelf

  Stood lonely in its leather frame a photograph I’ll not

  Forget, I think, although I never met

  The sitter, so immediate was the subjugating charm

  That struck one from the eyes and features. These

  Reported how much he was missing, whom I cannot praise,

  Only commemorate in a few unasked-for lines

  Which must leave the essential once more all but quite unsaid.

  c. 1950

  A TOUGH GENERATION

  To grow unguided at a time when none

  Are sure where they should plant their sprig of trust;

  When sunshine has no special mission to endow

  With gold the rustic rose, which will run wild

  And ramble from the garden to the wood

  To train itself to climb the trunks of trees

  If the old seedsman die and suburbs care

  For sentimental cottage-flowers no more;

  To grow up in a wood of rotted trees

 

‹ Prev