Tag Archives: loveliness

The Drunken Universe

The Drunken Universe: An Anthology of Persian Sufi Poetry, translated with commentary by Peter Lamborn Wilson (aka Hakim Bey) and Nasrollah Pourjavady, the 1999 paperback new edition from Omega Publications, is part of the collection at the Reading Room.

Peter Lamborn Wilson Nasrollah Pourjavady The Drunken Universe from Omega Publications

a few fragments from the introduction

Sufism can be seen to have functioned as a positive and healthy reaction to the overly rational activity of the philosophers and theologians. For the Sufis, the road to spiritual knowledge could never be confined to the process of purely intellectual activity, without the direct, immediate experience of the Heart.

In this book we are concerned with one art that the Sufis made peculiarly their own: poetry. Why should Sufis in general, and Persian Sufis in particular, choose to write poetry?

When they wanted to ‘be themselves’, lovers of the Truth, they needed a language more intense, closer to the center of human awareness than prose. Truth is beautiful, so when one speaks of it, one speaks beautifully. As the lover sings to his beloved, so did the Sufis to theirs. Love itself creates a taste for this language, so that even the prose writers of Sufism scatter verse throughout their works and create poetic prose.

The overwhelming theme of this poetry is the Love relationship between the individual, the lover, and his Beloved, God. What characterizes the Beloved is beauty, loveliness, His self-sufficiency or needlessness.

You must take these poems as mirrors; for you know that a mirror has no form of itself, but rather reflects the face of anyone who looks in it.‘ Ayn al-Qozat Hamadani”

 

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

“The blue skies focus, as a burning bowl,
The restless passion of the universe
Into our mutual anger and distress,
To be forbidden (the Creator’s curse)
To comprehend the other’s loveliness.
We cannot grasp the ecstasy of this;
Only we strain and struggle and renew
The utter bliss of the unending kiss,
The mutual pang that shudders through and through,
Repeated and repeated, as the light
Can build a partial palace of the day” [via]