Not the God of the Israelites. Yet this god,
Or goddess as it may be, is a true god,
Laughing, benign…’ – ‘The god will descend again,
Any time we call on him – or her’,
Cozbi said, ‘for Ba’al is both she and he,
Mother and father, taking a lover’s lineaments,
All things to us.’ He embraced her lovingly,
Saying: A new misery torments me.
You will leave me. You will give yourself to others.’
She said: ‘That may seem strange to you. To us
It is a sacred duty.’ – ‘But, beloved, might it not be
A duty more sacred to be my love, my one love?
If there is a god of love, there must also be
A god of marriage.’ – ‘The gods’ she said, ‘do not
Concern themselves with marriage. Marriage is for
The making of children, the fixing of – what is the word?’
He said: ‘Inheritances. Land. Wealth. Cattle.
Maintaining the power of a family. That is true.
But I have seen with my own eyes a god shine out
From the bodies of girls and boys who have entered marriage.
She said: ‘For how long? The god yawns after a time
And then departs. Or he reveals himself
As a god of bitterness. In our temple
There is only the ecstasy.’ – ‘But you,’ he said,
‘You are not just the vessel of the ecstasy.
You are yourself – you are my one dear love.
Love is not something out there, not a passage of joy,
Between people who have no names. Love is ourselves.
Love is a word invented for us and us only.
The god is alive when you and I
Lie embraced, alone, the world shut out.’
She said: ‘Our high priestess would call that heresy.’
But he: ‘Yet she would smile when saying the word,
As you are smiling now.’ So they embraced,
And his eyes watered with love, his limbs trembled.
While out there, in the city, a great banquet
In honour of Ba’al proceeded – spitting roasts,
Wine spilling. ‘Eat,’ cried the host. ‘Eat ye.
For this is the very flesh of the god Ba’al,
Whose name be blessed in the ten worlds for ever.
Eat, eat, and do homage, for he is here
In the flesh of the lands and seas, in the birds that sing,
In the beast that grunt, in the armoured fish of the waters.
Eat, eat: do homage to his greatness.’
And they ate and belched their praise. Moses heard of it,
Moses heard all from the moral patrols and cried:
‘Every abomination that defiled them
With the worship of the golden calf – worse, you tell me,
Since they are eating of filthy forbidden flesh –
Scavengers of the sea, filled with dirt,
Pig-flesh, milk and flesh-meat in the one vessel.
Who has allowed this to happen? Speak. Who?’
And he looked at Joshua, Caleb, Eleazar,
The patrol-leaders, but none said anything,
And their silence was in manner of a rebuke.
Sighing, he said: ‘It is, at the last, myself –
The bad shepherd who has let the lambs go astray.
I have had a bereavement to suffer, a black season
Of mourning and solitude. But Joshua, my son,
You who must take up the rod of office, you
Who must bear the burden of leadership, Joshua,
How is it possible?’ Joshua spoke softly.
‘There were reports of particular transgressions.
Action was taken. As for the recent events –
Information was slow in coming. We had no
Word from Zimri. We understood all was well,
More or less well. Odd acts of delinquency.
But nothing that seemed to require major action.’
Moses said: “Where is Zimri?” – ‘No one knows.
We surmise that he may have been killed, because of his zeal.
They are an unruly people, the people of Moab.’
Moses said: ‘He was of good family.
I knew his father well. Honest, steadfast,
Pious. Now, Joshua, what do you propose?’
Joshua said: ‘Some of our erring people
Have already come home, ashamed and sick.
Ready for punishment. I suppose we must march in,
Ferret out the others. Or perhaps show
Our power and our righteousness. Punish the whole town.
Massacre. Set fire to it. Though, to speak truly,
We have had enough of such wholesale slaughter.’
Moses said: ‘The time for a judgement on Moab
Must come later, come in the Lord’s own time.
Meanwhile, our punishments for our erring sons
Must be’, he said, ‘exemplary.’ – ‘Exemplary – how?’ –
Moses said: ‘The word will come to me.
I fear it will be a harsh word.’ Harsh word, harsh,
And more than a harsh word. Cozbi was weeping
In Zimri’s arms, in the room of a squalid inn.
He said, not unhappily: ‘Punishment
For loving too well. Or it may be a reward.’
She said: ‘I was always told,’ then she wept again,
‘It was not for the weak of heart.’ But he said: ‘Strong,
Strong of heart. Is not this love of ours
Better, holier, than all that nonsense of the temple,
That wickedness of the temple?’ She spoke of dishonour.
‘You do not understand the dishonour.’ Harsh words
From the high priestess. ‘How can I show my face
Again in the streets, in my father’s house? The god
Has turned his back on me.’ Zimri kissed her tears.
‘You have found out in time, through the grace of some other god,
That you were not meant for that service. And yet, of course,
It was that which brought us together. The world is strange,
God is strange.’ She said: ‘Which god do you mean?’
He said: ‘Who knows? Perhaps the God of my people.
What kind of,’ he said, ‘malediction
Did your high priestess pronounce on you?’
Cozbi sobbed again. ‘She said that I had
Disgraced the temple, but then she admitted
Her own share of the blame. After all, it was she who
Encouraged me to to. . .’ Zimri smiled:
‘Seduce me to a religion of love? There, you are smiling.
And you, my love, a princess among your people,
Shall be an ever higher princess among mine.
So all shall end well.’ They kissed and then she said:
‘Where is this promised land you talk about?’
He said: ‘Beyond the Jordan. Even now
The work of parcelling out the land goes on.
To my tribe comes a great tract of rich soil,
Rich grass. We shall build a fair palace of stone
And live in love for ever and ever.’ Then she said:
‘You must know now – but surely you already know –
That I may not have children. The temple of love
Was given over to joy, not fertility.’
But he cried: ‘What does it matter? Israel
Can grow and flourish with no need of our help.
We shall be a new twin star in its sky.
That word – it is meant as a word of shame,
But the moon is barren and its light shines on the earth
With a beauty that the sun does not know. As now.’
He embraced her tenderly. ‘We are the moon lovers.’
She said: ‘We mus
t leave early. Put out the light.’
So he doused the lamp, saying however: ‘The light
Can never be put out.’ And the moon
Embraced them who embraced each other. Never
Be put out. In harsh sunlight Moses
Addressed the multitude: ‘You, children of Israel,
Have committed whoredoms with the daughters of Moab.
You have sacrificed to their gods, you have eaten
Of foul flesh and bowed down to Ba’al.
The anger of the Lord is a burning torrent.
For he is the one God, the God of mankind,
Who made mankind and all the earth and the heavens,
And he is a jealous God.
And his word has come to me, and this is his word.’
The sinners waited, rightly apprehensive,
The troops stern behind them. Moses said:
‘His word is this: Take all the heads of the people
That have sinned, and hang them before the Lord,
Up against the sun, that the Lord’s fierce anger
May be turned away from Israel. Judges,’ he cried.
And the judges, shocked but ready, looked towards him.
‘Judges, you have heard the order of the Lord.
Let justice be done.’ So Moses turned away
While justice was done, shutting his ears to torment
And curses, the terrified voices that cried:
The God of Jacob is a God of butchers
And Moses is the chief of butchers, saying:
‘I spoke too soon when I said the work was over.
I see now that the work is never over.
But, Lord God, may my work soon be over.’
The lovers stood, puzzled, when they came to the encampment,
Finding weeping and rending of garments by the tabernacle,
Then they looked up and saw. ‘Is this what they do?’
Cried Cozbi in fear. ‘Is this the kind of
Thing that the Israelites do?’ Zimri said: ‘Justice’,
In a weak voice. ‘They have been seeking justice.
For what crime?’ Cozbi cried: ‘Let us go.
Back to the city.’ But Joshua was upon them,
An armed squad behind him, saying: ‘So.
You came back to us, Zimri. With, as I see,
One of the whores of Moab.’ Zimri cried out:
‘Guard your tongue. The whore to whom you refer
Is the daughter of a prince of Moab, head
Of a great house in the kingdom. She is also my bride.’ –
‘Your bride,’ Joshua said. ‘That is a stage
Further than whoredom. You are both under arrest.’
Zimri said stoutly: ‘On what charge?’ And Joshua:
‘Abominations before the Lord our God.’ –
‘Wait’ Zimri said: ‘was I not sent to the city
On your instructions? What proof do you possess
That I have committed whoredoms, as you call them?’ –
‘The proof,’ said Joshua, ‘stands beside you.’ Zimri,
In a voice that rang out, said: ‘Ah, Joshua,
You who love the law so much that
Severed heads must grin in the sun for it,
You shall have the law, but she and I
Will have it too. For which of our law forbids
The converting of a pagan to the faith?
What law forbids the marriage of an Israelite
To the daughter of a foreign people?’ Joshua,
More doubtfully than before: ‘The situation
Is, at best, highly suspicious.’ – ‘I see.
Suspicion is enough for arrest, for threat’
For insult?’ – ‘The judges,’ now said Joshua, “must decide.
In the meantime, you are both under arrest.
On suspicion which, to a people at war, is enough.
And, if you will accept the word of our leader,
Which is also enough, the people of Moab,
From newborn child to doddering greybeard, are
Defined by him as an unclean people, source
Of disease of body and of spirit.’ Zimri said:
‘Do not talk to me of uncleanness, Joshua.
You smell of blood, blood, which, I fear,
Will not easily be washed out.’ – ‘No more talk.
Place them in the guard tents. Separately.’
But Zimri countered: ‘Wait. I claim, by right,
The protection of my own tribe.’ Joshua: ‘No.
The law of the whole people cancels out
The laws and customs of the tribes.’ – ‘Is that then
Written on the tablets? I think not.
The ancient custom of wedlock with the Simeonites
Demands that the bride be brought before the people
To be approved of the people.’ Joshua said:
‘Go, then. I am heartily sick of this matter.
It shall be left to the judges. But, Zimri, there will be
No escape. The perimeter guards have their orders.’
Now it happened that a new priest, freshly appointed,
Spoke that night to the people: ‘My name is Phinehas.
I know I am the youngest of your priests,
But the fire of faith burns the stronger therefor,
Nor is authority nor wisdom thereby abated.
I speak to you of the primal vessel of sin,
Woman. Sin and impurity. Of woman.’
But some of the women hearing hardened their faces
At his words, and at the words that followed:
‘It was Eve, the mother of all mankind,
That brought sin into the world, and that sin rests
With all her daughters, sin made manifest
In their uncleanness – filth of the mensal courses,
Of the very process of birth. Far more than men,
Women are lodged in the flesh and cling to the flesh,
Are rarely aroused to climb to the pure spirit.
If all women be unclean, how much more so
Are the women of the pagan peoples, in whom
Dwells the active devil of disruption –
The desire to draw men down from their purity
Into the stinking pit.’ Moses said
To Caleb: ‘I think he goes too far.’ But he listened:
‘Within our very gates still lies the stench
Of foreign idols and all their abominations,
Reeking from a vessel of pagan filth.
I demand that the vessel be shattered.’ A woman cried:
‘You spit on your own mother.’ And Moses said:
‘He does go too far.’ But Phinehas, inflamed,
Cried out: ‘The curse of the all highest fall
On all who shut their ears to the voice of holiness.
May they who hearken not to the words of their priests
Be thrust to the bottomless pit of the fires that fail not,
To the eternal dungeons of divine damnation.’
There was much more of this, but Cozbi,
Impure pagan vessel, and Zimri lay
In the peace of their after-love, but a troubled peace.
‘Believe me’, he said, ‘beloved, all will change
When we have crossed the river. There will be no more
Suspicion, hatred, panic. Our people tremble
With fear and disordered nerves.’ But she: ‘Your people –
The members of your tribe – they like me?’ Zimri:
‘Did they not show as much? We talk of nation,
But the reality does not lie out there –
With armies, flags, and tablets of the law.
It is in the tribe, which is but a family.
You are become a part of it.’ A shadow
Crossed them at that instant, obscuring the moon
An instant. Zimri said: ‘Who is there?’ And Cozbi
Whispered: ‘
Are they setting spies on us?’
A voice was over them, in their tent, shouting:
‘A spy of the Lord God. Prepare you, woman,
To join your stinking idols in the abode of blackness.’ –
‘Who are you?’ Zimri cried, rising aghast,
Arms out. Then there was a knife to be seen. ‘And you, too –
Son of the prince Salu and foul shame
To the tribe of Simeon.’ He lunged, Zimri fought,
The strength of the fanatic prevailed. Struck down,
Blood welling, he lay. Cozbi, in fear and horror,
Cried to the moon. ‘And now’, Phinehas panted,
‘Whore of Moab –‘ A scream through the sleeping camp,
Unheeded, some beast or bird of the night. At daybreak,
Phinehas spoke with pride of his work. Zeal, zeal –
The zeal of them who love the Lord ‘Your zeal’,
Cried Moses. ‘Yes, your sacred zeal, as you call it.
But sacred zeal can go too far. I am sickened
By your sacred murderous zeal.’ But the priest, surprised,
Said: ‘We are an embattled people. Are not those your words?
The speck in the fruit corrupts the whole basket.
The accursed of God may be stricken down by the priests of God.
That is laid down in the law.’ But Moses said:
‘The law is written on stone – hard, unyielding –
But the law may still be as flexible as a song.
Examine your own heart, Phinehas. You took pleasure
In the slaying of that innocent woman.’ – ‘Innocent?
Innocent?’ – ‘Yes, she knew no better.
She was not one of the chosen. But perhaps
She was being drawn towards the light and the truth. Yet you
Took pleasure in slaying her perhaps because she was a woman.
You fear women, hence you see them as vessels of sin.
But I say this to you, Phinehas: that it is the women
Who will carry our faith when the men waver. Strength
Is in the woman and not in the man. Men dream,
But the divine vision is no dream. It is as real
As the sweeping of the hearth, real as the beaming of children.
The bones of women are strong to bear. Has the Lord
Spoken to you since your act of religious zeal?’
Phinehas said: ‘The Lord has sent dreams of sin
And dreams of killing. Then I wake howling.’ Moses
Shook his head: ‘You were not meant to be a priest.
A warrior perhaps. Well, you may soon be able
To plunge your steel into flesh less yielding. The news
Of your zeal may already have reached the divan of Balak.’
But Phinehas: ‘She was a whore and a foul whore.’ –
Collected Poems Page 28