The Equinox (Volume I, Number I)

iI THE GARDEN OF JANUS The webs that snare them—while the knees Bend to the tyrant God—or unto Sin The lecher sunder ! Ah! came that undulant light from over or from under? XIII It matters not. Come, change! Come, woe! Come, mask | Drive Light, Life, Love into the deep ! In vain we labour at the loathsome task Not knowing if we wake or sleep; But in the end we lift the pluméd casque Of the dead warrior ; Find no chaste corpse therein, but a soft-smiling whore. XIV Then I returned into myself, and took All in my arms, God’s universe: Crushed its black juice out, while His anger shook His dumbness pregnant with a curse. I made me ink, and in a little book I wrote one word That God himself, the adder of Thought, had never heard. XV It detonated. Nature, God, mankind Like sulphur, nitre, charcoal, once G 97