Tag Archives: tumult

The Birth of Babalon

What is the tumult among the stars

that have shone so still till now?

What are the furrows of pain and wrath

upon the immortal brow?

 

Why is the face of God turned grey

and his angels all grown white?

What is the terrible ruby star

that burns down the crimson night?

 

What is the beauty that flames so bright

athwart the awful dawn?

She has taken flesh, she is come to judge

the thrones ye rule upon.

 

Quail ye kings for an end is come

in the birth of BABALON.

 

I have walked three dreadful nights away

in halls beyond despair,

I have given marrow and tears and sweat

and blood to make her fair.

 

I have lain my love and smashed my heart

and filled her cup with blood,

That blood might flow from the loins of woe

to the cup of brotherhood.

 

The cities reel in the shout of steel

where the sword of war is drawn.

Sing ye saints for the day is come

in the birth of BABALON.

 

Now God has called for his judgement book

and seen his name therein

And the grace of God and the guilt of God

have spelt it out as sin

 

His bloody priests have clutched his robes

and stained his linen gown

And his victims swarm from his broken hell

to drag his kingdom down.

 

O popes and kings and the little gods

are sick and sad and wan

To see the crimson star that bursts

like blood upon the dawn

 

While trumpets sound and stars rejoice

at the birth of BABALON.

 

BABALON is too beautiful

for sight of mortal eyes

She has hidden her loveliness away

in lonely midnight skies,

 

She has clothed her beauty in robes of sin

and pledged her heart to swine

And loving and giving all she has

brewed for saints immortal wine.

 

But now the darkness is riven through

and the robes of sin are gone,

And naked she stands as a terrible blade

and a flame and a splendid song

 

Naked in radiant mortal flesh

at the Birth of BABALON.

 

She is come new born as a mortal maid

forgetting her high estate,

She has opened her arms to pain and death

and dared the doom of fate,

 

And death and hell are at her back,

but her eyes are bright with life,

Her heart is high and her sword is strong

to meet the deadly strife,

 

Her voice is sure as the judgement trump

to crack the house of wrong,

Though walls are high and stone is hard

and the rule of hell was long

 

The gates shall fall and the irons break

in the Birth of BABALON.

 

Her mouth is red and her breasts are fair

and her loins are full of fire,

And her lust is strong as a man is strong

in the heat of her desire,

 

And her whoredom is holy as virtue is foul

beneath the holy sky,

And her kisses will wanton the world away

in passion that shall not die.

 

Ye shall laugh and love and follow her dance

when the wrath of God is gone

And dream no more of hell and hate

in the Birth of BABALON.

The Birth of Babalon in The Book of Babalon by John Whiteside ‘Jack’ Parsons

 

The Hermetic Library arts and letters pool is a project to publish poetry, prose and art that is inspired by or manifests the Western Esoteric Tradition. If you would like to submit your work for consideration as part of the Arts and Letters pool, contact the librarian.

The Nameless Quest in The Gate of the Sanctuary from The Temple of the Holy Ghost (Collected Works, Vol I) by Aleister Crowley.

“The king was silent. None of us would stir.
I sat, struck dumb, a living sepulchre.
For—hear me! in my heart this thing became
My sacrament, my pentecostal flame.
And with it grew a fear—a fear of Her.
What Her? Shame had not found itself a name.
Simply I knew it in myself. I brood
Ten years—so seemed it—O! the bitter food
In my mouth nauseate! In the silent hall
One might have heard God’s sparrow in its fall.
But I was lost in mine own solitude—
I should not hear Mikhael’s trumpet-call.
Yet there did grow a clamour shrill and loud:
One cursed, one crossed himself, another vowed
His soul against the quest; the tumult ran
Indecorous in that presence, man to man.
Stilled suddenly, beholding how I bowed
My soul in thought: another cry began.
‘Gereth the dauntless! Gereth of the Sea!
Gereth the loyal! Child of royalty!
witch-mothered Gereth! Sword above the strong,
heart pure, head many-wiled!’ The knightly throng
Clamour my name, and flattering words, to me—
If they may ‘scape the quest—I do them wrong;
They are my friends! Yet something terrible
Rings in the manly music that they swell.
They are all caught in this immense desire
Deeper than heaven, tameless as the fire.
All catch the fear—the fear of Her—as well,
And dare not—even afraid, I must aspire.” [via]