THE VISION AND THE VOICE
the house opens, and I see in it an old man, sitting by the
table. Heis blind. Yet he writeth in a great book, constantly.
I see what he is writing: ‘The words of the Book are as the
leaves of the flowers in the garden. Many indeed of these my
songs shall go forth as maidens, but there is one among
them, which one I know not, that shall be a man-child, whose
name shall be NEMO, when he hath beheld the face of the
Father, and become blind.”
(All this vision is most extraordinarily pleasant and peace-
ful, entirely without strength or ecstasy, or any positive
quality, but equally free from the opposites of any of those
qualities.) And the young man seems to read my thought,
which is, that I should love to stay in this garden and do
nothing for ever; for he sayeth to me: Come with me, and
behold how NEMO tendeth his garden.
So we enter the earth, and there is a veiled figure, in
absolute darkness. Yet it is perfectly possible to see in it, so
that the minutest details do not escape us. And upon the
root of one flower he pours acid so that that root writhes as
if in torture. And another he cuts, and the shriek is like the
shriek of a mandrake, torn up by the roots. And another he
chars with fire, and yet another he anoints with oil.
And I said: Heavy is the labour, but great indeed is the
reward.
And the young man answered me: He shall not see the
reward; he tendeth the garden.
And I said: What shall come unto him?
And he said: This thou canst not know, nor is it revealed by
the letters that are the totems of the stars, but only by the stars.
And he says to me, quite disconnectedly: The man of earth
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