193. SAINT ANSELM

WALKER OF THE SPECTRAL SKY 193 SAINT ANSELM(1036-1040) Quartering palaces of prayers Inclement stones on a Fig Tree:

Inegenitto as living The freshness and the breath Of cannons among the deserts, With each aspiration that Accompanies this piercing And every sigh that breathes This ceremonies of eternal Ttranspiring between these limits. And its transparency alone Is its penetrating Loneliness idea You-

And so I breathe each instant In you unnamable With the Placid drizzles; Clinging storms, swirling mysteries; Mirrors of glaciers, sharp and sublime stabs between verb and being; Between trembling volcanoes, Vomits of the sky, In cures and spits Of perennial drunkenness. Yawns of unmentionable hungers, Silences, Trapped by the mirror. The specter of doubt, The Farewell. To some, throw them away With that pinch Of drunkenness, Reason.

Those Warm tinseled heats, Those tenebrous Mouthfuls Of death, Loosed to the wind, they sway falling down Odorous of dialectics, Like the audacity Of some freedmen Worshippers of the flight Of faith , Knotted : Between the guts Of knowing , Pray , turbulence of screams, The raised throats of gargoyles Clinging mendicant, Praise Almoravids and heathen and unbelieving Berbers. Abbreviating the desert, Cobras Like strangely bewitched Suddenly also astray From their true costume Crawling.

And they among the garments Picking out the barbs To seem clinging cling To the darkness even, Cannot think of anything greater Than the most. The great can be thought, Riding cannot go Without the rein nor the arrow. Without the adventurous hulls, which are entangled In the paths of the parables, Without the earth that before his feet trembles.