O som de uma flauta em bosquetes escuros que crescem nos montes mais distantes. Mas que tenho eu a ver com essas coisas? Meu Deus, como eu Te amo! Eu sou uma ave branca, e me empoleiro em Ti. Eu sou Ele.
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Into my loneliness comes — 2. The sound of a flute in dim groves that haunt the uttermost hills. Even from the brave river they reach to the edge of the wilderness. And I behold Pan. The snows are eternal above, above — 6.
And their perfume smokes upward into the nostrils of the stars. But what have I to do with these? To me only the distant flute, the abiding vision of Pan.
On all sides Pan to the eye, to the ear; The perfume of Pan pervading, the taste of him utterly filling my mouth, so that the tongue breaks forth into a weird and monstrous speech. The embrace of him intense on every centre of pain and pleasure. The sixth interior sense aflame with the inmost self of Him, Myself flung down the precipice of being Even to the abyss, annihilation.
An end to loneliness, as to all. Io Pan! My God, how I love Thee! With the vehement appetite of a beast I hunt Thee through the Universe. Thou art standing as it were upon a pinnacle at the edge of some fortified city. I am a white bird, and perch upon Thee.
Thou art My Lover: I see Thee as a nymph with her white limbs stretched by the spring. She lies upon the moss; there is none other but she: 6.
Art Thou not Pan? I am He. Speak not, O my God! Let the work be accomplished in silence. Let my cry of pain be crystallized into a little white fawn to run away into the forest! Thou art a centaur, O my God, from the violet-blossoms that crown Thee to the hoofs of the horse. Thou art harder than tempered steel; there is no diamond beside Thee. Did I not yield this body and soul? I woo thee with a dagger drawn across my throat. Let the spout of blood quench Thy blood-thirst, O my God!
Thou art a little white rabbit in the burrow Night. I am greater than the fox and the hole. Give me Thy kisses, O Lord God! The lightning came and licked up the little flock of sheep. There is a tongue and a flame; I see that trident walking over the sea. They spear the wicked. I will spear Thee, O Thou little grey god, unless Thou beware! From the grey to the gold; from the gold to that which is beyond the gold of Ophir.
My God! Why hast Thou whispered so ambiguous things? From the lightning fall pearls; from the pearls black specks of nothing. I based all on one, one on naught. O Thou great hooded sun of glory, cut off these eyelids! Nature shall die out; she hideth me, closing mine eyelids with fear, she hideth me from My destruction, O Thou open eye.
O ever-weeping One! There thought; and thought is evil. Fall not into death, O my soul! Think that death is the bed into which you are falling! O how I love Thee, O my God! Especially is there a vehement parallel light from infinity, vilely diffracted in the haze of this mind. I love Thee. Thou art a beautiful thing whiter than a woman in the column of this vibration. I shoot up vertically like an arrow, and become that Above. But it is death, and the flame of the pyre. Ascend in the flame of the pyre, O my soul!
Thy God is like the cold emptiness of the utmost heaven, into which thou radiatest thy little light. What shalt Thou be, my God, when I have ceased to love Thee?
A worm, a nothing, a niddering knave! But Oh! I have thrown a million flowers from the basket of the Beyond at Thy feet, I have anointed Thee and Thy Staff with oil and blood and kisses.
I have kindled Thy marble into life — ay! I have been smitten with the reek of Thy mouth, that drinketh never wine but life. How the dew of the Universe whitens the lips! I Am She that should come, the Virgin of all men. I am a boy before Thee, O Thou satyr God. Thou wilt inflict the punishment of pleasure — Now! O my God, spare me! It is done! I cried aloud the word — and it was a mighty spell to bind the Invisible, an enchantment to unbind the bound; yea, to unbind the bound.
O my God! For ever! That which came fire from Thee cometh water from me; let therefore Thy Spirit lay hold on me, so that my right hand loose the lightning. Travelling through space, I saw the onrush of two galaxies, butting each other and goring like bulls upon earth.
I was afraid. Thus they ceased fight, and turned upon me, and I was sorely crushed and torn. I had rather have been trampled by the World-Elephant. Thou art my little pet tortoise! Yet Thou sustainest the World-Elephant. I creep under Thy carapace, like a lover into the bed of his beautiful; I creep in, and sit in Thine heart, as cubby and cosy as may be.
Thou shelterest me, that I hear not the trumpeting of that World-Elephant. Thou art not worth an obol in the agora; yet Thou art not to be bought at the ransom of the whole Universe. Thou art like a beautiful Nubian slave leaning her naked purple against the green pillars of marble that are above the bath. Wine jets from her black nipples. I drank wine awhile agone in the house of Pertinax. The cup-boy favoured me, and gave me of the right sweet Chian.
There was a Doric boy, skilled in feats of strength, an athlete. The full moon fled away angrily down the wrack. I was pernicious drunk, O my God! Yet Pertinax brought me to the bridal. I had a crown of thorns for all my dower. Colder than all the ice of all the glaciers of the Naked Mountain was the wine it poured for me. A wild country and a waning moon. Clouds scudding over the sky. A circuit of pines, and of tall yews beyond.
Thou in the midst! O all ye toads and cats, rejoice! Ye slimy things, come hither!
Liber Liberi vel Lapidis Lazuli Adumbratio Kabbalae Aegyptiorum sub figurâ VII
Into my loneliness comes — 2. The sound of a flute in dim groves that haunt the uttermost hills. Even from the brave river they reach to the edge of the wilderness. And I behold Pan.
Liber Liberi vel Lapidis Lazuli Adumbratio Kabbalae Aegyptiorum Sub Figura VII
Ты прекрасен, белее жены, в столпе этого трепета. Я устремляюсь вверх, как стрела, и становлюсь тем, что Вверху. Намек на Стрельца, как в 9-м стихе этой главы. Но это — смерть и пламя погребального костра. Вознесись же в пламени костра, душа моя! Твой Бог подобен холодной пустыне самых дальних небес, в которую ты изливаешь свой слабый свет.
Liber Liberi vel Lapidis Lazuli
Главная Телема Алистер Кроули. Произведения по Магии и учению Телемы Алистер Кроули. Даже и не знаю, как объяснить, каким образом я это сделал. Не могу даже утверждать, что это было автоматическое письмо. Могу сказать лишь, что в процессе я не вполне осознавал смысл записываемого, но чувствовал, что не имею права изменять ничего, вплоть до начертания букв. Книги эти записывались невероятно быстро, без малейших перерывов на обдумывание, и не подлежали последующей редактуре. Его отличает устойчивая приподнятость, на которую я совершенно неспособен, и она перевешивает любые интеллектуальные возражения, какие только я мог бы выдвинуть.
Thou art a beautiful thing whiter than a woman in the column of this vibration. I shoot up vertically like an arrow, and become that Above. But it is death, and the flame of the pyre. Ascend in the flame of the pyre, O my soul! Thy God is like the cold emptiness of the utmost heaven, into which thou radiatest thy little light.