CANTO II: THE ONSET OF PASSION
Verse i
Began it all did on an autumn's eve,
when, in bed, in the confines of subconscious,
vision of holy proportions swept the young mind
of Insan. What magnitude it had, I cannot
tell, but of the dream and subsequent love
that swept the boy, we have, in hand,
utterances of his own mouth. He did
himself tell of that day to her and said:
In midnight hours of an October night,
I fell to my cot in exhaustion and
drifted into a trance of sleep, when, suddenly,
I was overcome with fear, and,
in my dream, sat up to see what caused it,
only to be shaken by the sight of that one
who led the children of God's promise in
the deserts of the East. This angel stared
with eyes that saw depth of soul and
spake in deep thunders to my mind:
"My Good man!" cried Saint Mikhail,
blessed angel of chief rank and age,
"Lift an ear and hear the words that
are bellowed in the street this day!
Rise up from bed and sleep, claim now
the gift of heaven's Grace!"
"Today, the Lord pours joy into your heart!"
said he in booming echoes loud,
that filled the hollows of my mind
until I woke, and even then. I sat
there in the gardens and raised my eyes to
gaze in thought, yet I saw you and
found that I lost perception at the glance
of you that day.
Why that day, and not times before? I asked
myself that question too, yet to me no
true answer came that I could comprehend.
So then, I took fact for fact and left my
thoughts for madness.
I wandered in the desert to that treasured spring
and I drowned in your name until my own
was lost. Nameless, I sang hymns to
the rising sun and looked to the
sky for soft glow of cleansing light.
Verse ii
I looked to the sky and there I saw you,
a woman formed like any daughter of
time. You were flawed and faulty, as
like any, but is it not true that every sun
is speckled with sun spots that freckle the
soft beauty of its glow?
So then, neither sight of fault nor sin
conveyed a lesser awe, for it was, it seemed,
that each spot added accent to your splendour.
And so, even the peculiar ways
in which you oft annoy me made you shine
more vibrant than the night-time stars.
In my eyes, you forever are the sovereign of the skies,
and only when you grace my thoughts with your
warm dawn, am I in truth bathed in the light of day:
a splendid light that washes all the shadows of my
mind away. Then, though I be rough and cratered, I know
I can, with you, shine in any gloom of night.
Verse iii
Yet, I can but reflect your light, for any that I had is lost
in awe of you. And so, I simply gaze on in devotion at
the golden glow by which you radiate to all.
I look on and reach out, though in shyness,
for caution of my own frail mind, and
I inquire, Could fingers like ours meet: Could blackness
of night ever touch the halo of a day?
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