The World’s Tragedy

THE RED STAR. 57 Conquering, penetrating, crushing — All the seeds of darkness in me Splashed with fire and water, So that spring arises in me Like a warrior weary of slaughter Striding to the striped lair Of deftly-woven camel’s hair, Where the trembling captive-woman Waits his pleasure-hour inhuman ! All the roots of love and power Flushed at last into a flower. All the films of sense dissolved ; All the spirit sight evolved, So that after myriad aeons Filled with trumpet-pealing paeans, With the nuptial bliss of man Prostituted unto Pan, Rises on the vast inane Your dread red star again ! O star, thy secret I possess : I, watcher for man’s happiness. I go to ward thy craven curse From the maiden Universe.