sword blades & poppy seed-第11节
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〃Christine！ My Love！ Christine！〃 A sudden spark
Pricked through the gloom； and shortly Max espied
With his uncertain vision； so within
Distracted he could scarcely trust its truth；
A latticed window where a crimson gleam
Spangled the blackness； and hung from a pin；
An iron crane； were three gilt balls。 His youth
Had taught their meaning； now they closed upon his dream。
62
Softly he knocked against the casement； wide
It flew； and a cracked voice his business there
Demanded。 The door opened； and inside
Max stepped。 He saw a candle held in air
Above the head of a gray…bearded Jew。
〃Simeon Isaacs； Mynheer； can I serve
You？〃 〃Yes； I think you can。 Do you keep arms？
I want a pistol。〃 Quick the old man grew
Livid。 〃Mynheer； a pistol！ Let me swerve
You from your purpose。 Life brings often false alarms 〃
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〃Peace； good old Isaacs； why should you suppose
My purpose deadly。 In good truth I've been
Blest above others。 You have many rows
Of pistols it would seem。 Here； this shagreen
Case holds one that I fancy。 Silvered mounts
Are to my taste。 These letters ‘C。 D。 L。'
Its former owner？ Dead； you say。 Poor Ghost！
'Twill serve my turn though 〃 Hastily he counts
The florins down upon the table。 〃Well；
Good…night； and wish me luck for your to…morrow's toast。〃
64
Into the night again he hurried； now
Pale and in haste； and far beyond the town
He set his goal。 And then he wondered how
Poor C。 D。 L。 had come to die。 〃It's grown
Handy in killing； maybe； this I've bought；
And will work punctually。〃 His sorrow fell
Upon his senses； shutting out all else。
Again he wept； and called； and blindly fought
The heavy miles away。 〃Christine。 I'm well。
I'm coming。 My Own Wife！〃 He lurched with failing pulse。
65
Along the dyke the keen air blew in gusts；
And grasses bent and wailed before the wind。
The Zuider Zee； which croons all night and thrusts
Long stealthy fingers up some way to find
And crumble down the stones； moaned baffled。 Here
The wide…armed windmills looked like gallows…trees。
No lights were burning in the distant thorps。
Max laid aside his coat。 His mind； half…clear；
Babbled 〃Christine！〃 A shot split through the breeze。
The cold stars winked and glittered at his chilling corpse。
Sancta Maria； Succurre Miseris
Dear Virgin Mary； far away；
Look down from Heaven while I pray。
Open your golden casement high；
And lean way out beyond the sky。
I am so little； it may be
A task for you to harken me。
O Lady Mary； I have bought
A candle； as the good priest taught。
I only had one penny； so
Old Goody Jenkins let it go。
It is a little bent； you see。
But Oh； be merciful to me！
I have not anything to give；
Yet I so long for him to live。
A year ago he sailed away
And not a word unto today。
I've strained my eyes from the sea…wall
But never does he come at all。
Other ships have entered port
Their voyages finished； long or short；
And other sailors have received
Their welcomes； while I sat and grieved。
My heart is bursting for his hail；
O Virgin； let me spy his sail。
~Hull down on the edge of a sun…soaked sea
Sparkle the bellying sails for me。
Taut to the push of a rousing wind
Shaking the sea till it foams behind；
The tightened rigging is shrill with the song：
〃We are back again who were gone so long。〃~
One afternoon I bumped my head。
I sat on a post and wished I were dead
Like father and mother； for no one cared
Whither I went or how I fared。
A man's voice said； 〃My little lad；
Here's a bit of a toy to make you glad。〃
Then I opened my eyes and saw him plain；
With his sleeves rolled up； and the dark blue stain
Of tattooed skin； where a flock of quail
Flew up to his shoulder and met the tail
Of a dragon curled； all pink and green；
Which sprawled on his back； when it was seen。
He held out his hand and gave to me
The most marvellous top which could ever be。
It had ivory eyes； and jet…black rings；
And a red stone carved into little wings；
All joined by a twisted golden line；
And set in the brown wood； even and fine。
Forgive me； Lady； I have not brought
My treasure to you as I ought；
But he said to keep it for his sake
And comfort myself with it； and take
Joy in its spinning； and so I do。
It couldn't mean quite the same to you。
Every day I met him there；
Where the fisher…nets dry in the sunny air。
He told me stories of courts and kings；
Of storms at sea； of lots of things。
The top he said was a sort of sign
That something in the big world was mine。
~Blue and white on a sun…shot ocean。
Against the horizon a glint in motion。
Full in the grasp of a shoving wind；
Trailing her bubbles of foam behind；
Singing and shouting to port she races；
A flying harp； with her sheets and braces。~
O Queen of Heaven； give me heed；
I am in very utmost need。
He loved me； he was all I had；
And when he came it made the sad
Thoughts disappear。 This very day
Send his ship home to me I pray。
I'll be a priest； if you want it so；
I'll work till I have enough to go
And study Latin to say the prayers
On the rosary our old priest wears。
I wished to be a sailor too；
But I will give myself to you。
I'll never even spin my top；
But put it away in a box。 I'll stop
Whistling the sailor…songs he taught。
I'll save my pennies till I have bought
A silver heart in the market square；
I've seen some beautiful； white ones there。
I'll give up all I want to do
And do whatever you tell me to。
Heavenly Lady； take away
All the games I like to play；
Take my life to fill the score；
Only bring him back once more！
~The poplars shiver and turn their leaves；
And the wind through the belfry moans and grieves。
The gray dust whirls in the market square；
And the silver hearts are covered with care
By thick tarpaulins。 Once again
The bay is black under heavy rain。~
The Queen of Heaven has shut her door。
A little boy weeps and prays no more。
After Hearing a Waltz by Bartok
But why did I kill him？ Why？ Why？
In the small； gilded room； near the stair？
My ears rack and throb with his cry；
And his eyes goggle under his hair；
As my fingers sink into the fair
White skin of his throat。 It was I！
I killed him！ My God！ Don't you hear？
I shook him until his red tongue
Hung flapping out through the black； queer；
Swollen lines of his lips。 And I clung
With my nails drawing blood； while I flung
The loose； heavy body in fear。
Fear lest he should still not be dead。
I was drunk with the lust of his life。
The blood…drops oozed slow from his head
And dabbled a chair。 And our strife
Lasted one reeling second； his knife
Lay and winked in the lights overhead。
And the waltz from the ballroom I heard；
When I called him a low； sneaking cur。
And the wail of the violins stirred
My brute anger with visions of her。
As I throttled his windpipe； the purr
Of his breath with the waltz became blurred。
I have ridden ten miles through the dark；
With that music； an infernal din；
Pounding rhythmic inside me。 Just Hark！
One！ Two！ Three！ And my fingers sink in
To his flesh when the violins； thin
And straining with passion； grow stark。
One！ Two！ Three！ Oh； the horror of sound！
While she danced I was crushing his throat。
He had tasted the joy of her； wound
Round her body； and I heard him gloat
On the favour。 That instant I smote。
One！ Two！ Three！ How the dancers swirl round！
He is here in the room； in my arm；
His limp body hangs on the spin
Of the waltz we are dancing； a swarm
Of blood…drops is hemming us in！
Round and round！ One！ Two！ Three！ And his sin
Is red like his tongue lolling warm。
One！ Two！ Three！ And the drums are his knell。
He is heavy； his feet beat the floor
As I drag him about in the swell
Of the waltz。 With a menacing roar；
The trumpets crash in through the door。
One！ Two！ Three！ clangs his funeral bell。
One！ Two！ Three！ In the chaos of space
Rolls the earth to the hideous glee
Of death！ And so cramped is this place；
I stifle and pant。 One！ Two！ Three！
Round and round！ God！ 'Tis he throttles me！
He has covered my mouth with his face！
And his blood has dripped into my heart！
And my heart beats and labours。 One！ Two！
Three！ His dead limbs have coiled every part
Of my body in tentacles。 Through
My ears the waltz jangles。 Like glue
His dead body holds me athwart。
One！ Two！ Three！ Give me air！ Oh！ My God！
One！ Two！ Three！ I am drowning in slime！
One！ Two！ Three！ And his corpse； like a clod；
Beats me into a jelly！ The chime；
One！
