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god save the tsar
By JT Lachausse
God said to me: go deep into the night; the ghetto of man’s heart,
the causeway of his soul, it opens for you to stride, to mystify, to howl upon
as bride, for the world is full of actors and they act on vacant shores;
your heart is an empire but your flesh shall be the door.
The furnace of God was wintry, his curving sky made still,
yet I learned to champion moonlight, a playwright of the aether;
I sought to become Someone, to wreathe my soul in cosmos,
to love our body as a gypsy — protected by God and made of Godstuff.
Come you skeletons, come you husks! I give you perfumed gardens,
I give you Babylon, I give you Rome, I give you night language, the fandango of snow,
the Ride of the Valkyries, your raison d'être! I give you me! I give you me!
I was industrious, I was Tsar; I leaned on my tombstone, I howled to the stars:
Who can say now that I am without the special protection of God!
I was cartoon, I was little child, leviathan, louse; swim-trunks on shag, back on sable fur;
I heard nothing, felt nothing but the feedback of bombs; and I gave them — I gave them --
I gave them all and received only darkness.
Do I not rise, Someone? Do I not rise above the curving sky? Someone?
Someone — you will answer me! I will not go into this night without you!
You were my soul, Someone! You were ivory velour, my champagne blood, you were --
You were where wolves could not cross, where the dust could not suspend;
O stars, I begged to God: lift my Wintry Palace high; shine on my tsardom door --
I am but a wand’ring gypsy, the murder of a gentle land, the drone of vacant shores,
the drone of vacant shores.
#Unreal #Poem #Tsar #Russia #Myth #Soul #Babel
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