Circe
Part I: The Journey
1. Foam and froth, surge and swell, billow and burst O Sea!
Blow and breathe thy fires and fumes,
Fulminate O Fury’s rage!
Let our heroes be!
They are not of common bred, Grecian heroes these.
They shall create a thunderbolt,
They shall stride the Earth and Moon
If any need there be!
2. O’er the angry waves and waters, winds and whining atmospheres,
O’er the churning vortex,
With the grace of Poseidon from all dangers free
Shall our dauntless heroes sail
Into the unknown seas.
Be it against the will of gods,
Nature be against them,
They are adrift and brave of heart
Our heroes these.
3. What if the vessel tilts too much?
Are not their hearts quite strong?
Mighty souls yet brave and calm?
The dance of Death! Those frolic waves undulating dark
Reflect the dullest gloom
Of the dullest sky
In the dullest manner
Under the rocking bark.
But the barks that sail through Time
Have a steady keel,
None is yellow in his liver
None has learnt to shake and quiver,
Fear they never feel.
4. Roar ye waters, crackle clouds, moan ye winds both soft and loud,
Die Oh Child of Morning’s breath!
Darken Earth and palpitate,
Fears will only turn you blue!
Masculine our heroes each
Bears a sun within his heart
Of some hopes a land to win,
To discover lands unseen,
Burns the sun within each heart.
5. Grecian Heroes! Lose not courage though difficult your task!
What is life for lazy lovers under lunar lights?
What is life for idle poets falling from their heights?
“Challenge!” is the word for heroes
And the word is “Fight!”
Tomorrow may not see you again!
On the vast seas the journey’s begun,
Creeping comes the night!
6. How the astral lights depict a stalagmitic ray!
Salty fountain like a fay!
‘Tis the strength of Death’s own grandchild
Heartless killer whale.
For a moment all our heroes
Gaping full and staring hard
Call upon the names they adore
Minerva and Jupitar,
Mercury and Mars!
How the waters rose upwards and with a swish fell back!
Thanks to the whale now off their track!
7. Ye may never find an island, floating ever live,
Does that matter Grecian Heroes?
Adventure is narcotics,
Arouser of kief!
Experience is in itself the greatest of all gifts.
Keep your brains within your heads,
Use your brawns and tug,
Forget home and wife and child,
Proceed through the fog!
Patriots of fertile Greece,
Proceed through the fog!
Part II: The Discouragement
1. Months elapsed, and every day twice afloat on gold
Half their hidden Suns were shrouded
Half their hopes were cold.
Sailing on the ink-pot vainly
Searching for an island comely
Day by day their lives re-told.
Almost starved and naked nearly
Curse they themselves all profanely,
“Foolhardy or bold?”
2. “Dead are many, dying many, sick or starved will die here any
You or he or he or any,”
Says a dying man to few remaining,
“Better home to die than here!”
Sickened by the fruitless years
Knowing, nodding, each one hears;
Hearts are heavy, sad and somber,
Were the pangs and pains made just for hombre?
Gush! You retained tears!
3. But ah! Among them one has heart of vulture,
Heart of lion,
Heart of man!
Tall and handsome, princely, shapely
He that all these hands commands.
Seeing thus the hearts of heroes
Dying, dying, dying,
Dissolving into darkest Nought,
To the Void replying,
Seeing thus the hearts of heroes from their strongest vessels leak
Up and with a hand for silence commences he here to speak.
4. “Friends and sailors! Here me now!
Battles fought with mortal-round
Has found us each safe and sound.
Here’s a challenge, Death’s the foe!
Onwards must we, we must go!
Or shall we turn our tails?
Green is absent, blue prevails,
Yet billowing, thrilling are our sails,
There’s a heaven awaits our advent
Let us through the distance rent,
We were by the gods here sent
Onwards must we! Or repent!
If Death is a never-dying foe
Shall we not die, return or go?
Turning back were doubly dead,
Then come! Our venture must ahead!”
5. Thus he spoke and threw a spark
Waking hero hearts,
Cirrus clouds on azure sky!
Do the gods now smile from high?
Or feel a jealous twang?
On they go now singing, ringing,
Now our heroes, Grecian heroes,
Belong to their rank!
Part III: The Island
1. Hearts of Heroes may be hard, but Man is ever Man.
Here a silent sailor sick, melancholy, grieved.
Lamentations in his heart, a lump was in his throat
Wishing sorely, but untimely, he was never afloat.
A form of colour and fresh Beauty saw he in the air
Feminine as wife can be, closest to his heart;
The tears were dried from her sweet eyes by length of longest years
And a Promethian pang had whitened all her hair jet black hair.
The face turned pale and paler and then dissolved in the cloud
Ask not me oh gentle readers! What sorrows his heart shroud.
With the look of lunatic and absent-minded stare
Like a child that reads of Freud
With a sheepish gaze on wise worlds, brave worlds,
Sane worlds, worlds of purpose, world of store,
Of his gentle bride at home
Dreams the sailor ever-more!
2. Far his gaze was scrutinizing the horizon blue,
Something calmed his lumps and laments
Something touched his nerves with joy,
Strange emotion from the sky
Of a different hue!
Of a different hue, my Lord! Of a different hue!
Green or red or brown or something I cannot tell you!
But the swallows chirped a welcome
Faint, but distinct, sweet,
Sucked the sailor all the air and shouted in the heat
“Land! Land! Oh mark that land!
Land! Land! Oh land!”
And the dying evening was buried in the “Land!”
3. Fast as hand and oar can move in rhythm “Thum, thum, thum!”
On thy verdure shall these sing; heroes come, come, come!
The stars so bright were never seen
So calm the sea has never been
Come sailors wine or rum?
The gods are on your side today, the greatest fortune send
‘Tis more than dream, ‘tis more than life, ‘tis more than paradise!
What lovely wine and women be here
I cannot surmise.
4. All night long the sailors turned poets as they stood
Playing with their fancies,
Dreaming of romances,
All in a blithe mood,
Hoping that Orion had a longer stride,
Praying to Apollo that faster he may ride.
And like the Truth, arising from the wine and brine,
Soon the sun did show himself splendidly divine.
5. Instructions were brief and clear
Few remained behind
All the rest did land
Apprehension was not there
Pleasure filled their minds.
6. The very touch of sand and soil grew a heart in sole!
Had they turned their tails and gone?
Oh this Paradise!
Flowers to their right and left,
Blossoms in the trees
Vermillion, shimmering yellow, deepest blue and pink,
Enticing the bees.
Softest lancelet-blades of verdant, succulent grasses flow
May-flowers like pink stars
Scattered on this sky do grow.
The misted-opulence of rosy apples mellowing in the sun,
Pomegranate, lemons, pears,
From different trees like different spheres,
Waiting to be plucked;
Here streams of milk-white waters run,
Here swans are bathing in the sun,
Here lakes and pools have dreamed and writ
Epics of the Nature’s realm
On their breathless life.
Here music warbles on her wings
Sprinkling life on everything,
But soft!
Have our heroes heard a different melody?
Part IV: Circe, the Witch
1. Drunken through the mouth and eyes and ears and all the senses
Tell us heroes walking in the empty air
All your pleasures, tell us truly, what juicy warble enhances?
What visions have you formed in mind?
What empty pleasures seek?
Have your fearless hearts now heroes
By sweet music turned weak?
Stern Duty’s voice grows weak and faint
Reluctance is suppressed,
Reason is flown and thoughts are blown
By Urge onwards pressed.
2. Why sailors! Saw you never castles?
Like they were all snow?
Walk you in mesmerism?
Unknowing where you go?
The eucalyptus pale and lofty
Stands a forbidding ground,
Deceit grins from some dark corner
Laughs in some sweet sound.
The sun would fain retrace his path,
Dissolve the world in darkness
Ah why should you with evil eyes
Look at Beauty’s brightness?
‘Tis time you return to your ship,
Give the rest a chance;
Wide-eyed wonder does not hear
Slowly they advance.
3. The music stops, the seconds drag, the castle door squeaks slight,
Each heart within now gallops fast, finds an inch of height
As black-eyed Cerci stands behind the warmest, reddest smile
Almost eighteen years of voyage, Oh! The lovely profile!
Is that face our journey’s end? Is that girl our goal?
Who would mind a little nap? The selling of the soul?
Translucent her morning’s white gown, her hair black waterfall
Sugared with the richest passion like a bird she calls.
4. Seeing how perplexed the sailors like busts of brass there stood
She knew what was in their hearts, their lusts she understood.
Her lifted bosom swelled and settled like a single wave
That calls the others just a minute, her signal she thus gave.
Turning round abruptly she then lithely walked indoors
Following Heroes? Play not with the females and with things that gore.
5. In she took them, wine she gave them, music played then,
Goofing heroes! Fall you into such stupore?
She is not, oh not your innocent Lenore!
6. When each had tasted of the wine and sat reclined
And felt himself sublime—
For he found the Circe’s glance
When he looked her every time,
Then up she got and shrunk a lot
And waved her wand in air
Wrinkling, crinkling, no more twinkling,
Crackled she, “Oh hear!
O hear! You foolish Grecian drunkards!
Fattest pigs you be!
Be the fattest pigs! Oh pigs!
The fattest pigs for me!”
How our dauntless, dauntless pigs
Answered with one accord
“Snort! Snort!” and wagged their tails
To her circling rod!
How she led them to a fence
And locked them in their place
Where are all our brave war-heroes?
Of them not a trace!
Fondest lovers! Now’s the time
For chewing on your cuds
Of the fevered-dream, fare you well!
Blame them not—the gods!
Part V: The Rescue
1. “Ulysses! Ulysses! Where are thy sailors brave?
Could such a lovely island be?
Be their darkest grave?
Have they lost their paths and wander
Like a river that meanders
Over the unknown lands?
Have thy commands been forgotten?
Or delinquency turns then rotten?
Or Fate has cruel hands?
Are they eating Lotus again?
Or by hostile natives slain?
Or taken as mere slaves?
Or the twinkling, tossing flowers
Shown them in their roots the bowers
And halls for ladies and braves?
Whatever their plights may be
Friends are friends on lands or sea,
Go in search of them!
If you find them, why! Rejoice!
If not don’t you bear the ice,
But hie! And search for them.
2. So the second party landed
With the very Fate were branded
Found the castle white,
Once more our black-eyed Cerci
Found the Greeks at her own merci
With her evil might.
3. Who is Ulysses this
That her eyes as vulgar sees
And to the next does pass?
Sane and wry his mentality
Will not lull to any ditty
Sung by the sweetest lass.
4. Their female host so hospitable
Filled with wine and fruits their table
Sailors gormandise:
Each has found a rebirth in him,
Black-eyes fill the sailors’ dream,
Life is a new surprise!
5. But our Hero with his heart
From which love can never part
And a head full reasons
Has not touched the wine nor food,
In them he has seen no good,
Though tempters come in legions.
6. As Cerci’s warble chimes and tingles
There’s a warning bell that jingles
Through the conscious mind,
Even then the music stops and
Cerci’s wand comes to her hand,
Ulysses steps behind.
7. Circling round her cruel wand
All the sailors she commands:
“Be the fattest pigs!”
Drunken, foolish sailors turn
Pigs, now Cerci have your fun—
Yet one does wear his wigs!
8. Perplexed, dazed and wondering
Speaking after pondering
Repeats her magic spell,
But he has in his hand a sword
And will not ail for all the world
Would fain have rung her knell!
9. Here his friends are snorting, snorting,
Some are glutting, others sporting,
How can he leave these dears?
Up he steps and slaps the Cerci
The black-eyed, voluptuous Cerci
Although she plays in tears.
10. Threatens her with such torture
As will scorch her long-lived future,
And pleadings will not hear.
Now our black-eyed, lovely Cerci
In the hands of god-like man she
Meets with her first fear.
11. Circles she her wand over
The filthy stink of pigs that hovers
And scents her magic hall,
Are these heroes she now raises?
Ulysses is crowned with praises,
Cerci is scared, dismal.
12. Hatred is like bitter bile
Just to think how in their style
Other comrades brood.
Even like the Fury rages,
Like a lightning built through ages
Waiting to strike he stood.
13. But apprehensive Cerci leads them
To the styles and repeats the same
Voodoo in a haste;
Victorious heroes from the war
Come you to this island far
Life of pigs to taste?
16-21 February, 1971.
