The Vision and the Voice

THE VISION AND THE VOICE never is there any image therein, or any hint thereof; but now there are three arrows, arranged thus: This is the letter Aleph in the Alphabet of Arrows. (I want to say that while I was doing the translation of the Call of the Aethyrs, the soles of my feet were burning, as if I were on red hot steel.) And now the fire has spread all over me, and parches me, and tortures me. And my sweat is bitter like poison. And all my blood is acrid in my veins, like gleet. I seem to be all festering, rotting; and the worms eating me while I am yet alive. A voice, neither in myself nor out of myself, is saying: Remember Prometheus; remember Ixion. Iam tearing at nothing. I will not heed. For even this dust must be consumed with fire. And now, although there is no image, at last there is a sense of obstacle, as if one were at length drawing near to the frontier of the Aethyr. But I am dying. Ican neither strive nor wait. There is agony in my ears, and in my throat, and mine eyes have been so long blind that I cannot remember that there ever was such a thing as sight. And it cometh to me that I should go away, and await the 155