71 (half asleep on the shore)

HALF ASLEEP ON the shore you dreaded

the voice of Tempest

when he thundered in your ears his 'No'.

You had said to each other

that the shore had its plenty,

the house had its comfort,

when suddenly grinding his flashing teeth

Tempest growled 'No'.

But I have made Tempest my comrade

and left my shore,

my ship tosses on the sea.

I have trusted the Terrible,

have filled my sails with his breath

and my heart with his assurance

that the shore is there.

He cries to me, 'You are vagrant

even as I am myself,

Victory to you.'

Things are shattered to pieces

scattered by the wind,

the timid murmur in despair,

'The end of time has come.'

Tempest cries, 'Only that remains

which is utterly given away.'

With trust in him I march forward,

I look not back

while the hoarded heap is swept away by flood.

My traveller's reed is tuned

with the tune of his loud laughter,

it sings: Away with lures of desire,

with bonds that are fixed,

with the achievement that is past and hope that is idle.

Learn for your drum the dance-time

of the reckless waves beating against rocks.

Away with greed and fear,

with tyranny's banner borne by slaves.

Come Divine Destruction,

drive us away from the house,

from safety's easy path.

Come with the flutter of your wings of death,

spread upon the wind your cry 'No'.

No rest, no languor,

No load of feebleness weighing down the head.

Knock and break open the miser's door.

Scatter away the musty gloom of storage,

banish the self-distrust

that seeks a hole wherein to hide,

and let your trumpet proclaim

in the wind

your terrible cry 'No'.





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