10 мин
Слушать

The Sphinx

In a dim corner of my room for longer thanmy fancy thinksA beautiful and silent Sphinx has watched methrough the shifting gloom.

Inviolate and immobile she does not rise shedoes not

For silver moons are naught to her and naughtto her the suns that reel.

Red follows grey across the air, the waves ofmoonlight ebb and

But with the Dawn she does not go and in thenight-time she is there.

Dawn follows Dawn and Nights grow old andall the while this curious

Lies couching on the Chinese mat with eyes ofsatin rimmed with gold.

Upon the mat she lies and leers and on thetawny throat of

Flutters the soft and silky fur or ripples to herpointed ears.

Come forth, my lovely seneschal! so somnolent,so statuesque!

Come forth you exquisite grotesque! half womanand half animal!

Come forth my lovely languorous Sphinx! andput your head upon my knee!

And let me stroke your throat and see yourbody spotted like the Lynx!

And let me touch those curving claws of yellowivory and

The tail that like a monstrous Asp coils roundyour heavy velvet paws!

A thousand weary centuries are thinewhile I have hardly

Some twenty summers cast their green

Autumn's gaudy liveries.

But you can read the Hieroglyphs on thegreat sandstone obelisks,

And you have talked with Basilisks, and youhave looked on Hippogriffs.

O tell me, were you standing by when Isis

Osiris knelt?

And did you watch the Egyptian melt her unionfor

And drink the jewel-drunken wine and bendher head in mimic

To see the huge proconsul draw the salted tunnyfrom the brine?

And did you mark the Cyprian kiss white Adonon his catafalque?

And did you follow Amenalk, the God

Heliopolis?

And did you talk with Thoth, and did you hearthe moon-horned Io weep?

And know the painted kings who sleep beneaththe wedge-shaped Pyramid?

Lift up your large black satin eyes which arelike cushions where one sinks!

Fawn at my feet, fantastic Sphinx! and sing meall your memories!

Sing to me of the Jewish maid who wanderedwith the Holy Child,

And how you led them through the wild, andhow they slept beneath your shade.

Sing to me of that odorous green eve whencrouching by the

You heard from Adrian's gilded barge thelaughter of

And lapped the stream and fed your drouth andwatched with hot and hungry

The ivory body of that rare young slave withhis pomegranate mouth!

Sing to me of the Labyrinth in which the twi-formed bull was stalled!

Sing to me of the night you crawled across thetemple's granite

When through the purple corridors the screamingscarlet Ibis

In terror, and a horrid dew dripped from themoaning Mandragores,

And the great torpid crocodile within the tankshed slimy tears,

And tare the jewels from his ears and staggeredback into the Nile,

And the priests cursed you with shrill psalms asin your claws you seized their

And crept away with it to slake your passion bythe shuddering palms.

Who were your lovers? who were theywho wrestled for you in the dust?

Which was the vessel of your Lust?

Leman had you, every day?

Did giant Lizards come and crouch before youon the reedy banks?

Did Gryphons with great metal flanks leap onyou in your trampled couch?

Did monstrous hippopotami come sidling towardyou in the mist?

Did gilt-scaled dragons writhe and twist withpassion as you passed them by?

And from the brick-built Lycian tomb whathorrible Chimera

With fearful heads and fearful flame to breednew wonders from your womb?

Or had you shameful secret quests and didyou harry to your

Some Nereid coiled in amber foam with curiousrock crystal breasts?

Or did you treading through the froth call tothe brown

For tidings of Leviathan,

Leviathan

Behemoth?

Or did you when the sun was set climb up thecactus-covered

To meet your swarthy Ethiop whose body wasof polished jet?

Or did you while the earthen skiffs droppeddown the grey Nilotic

At twilight and the flickering bats flew roundthe temple's triple

Steal to the border of the bar and swim acrossthe silent

And slink into the vault and make the Pyramidyour

Till from each black sarcophagus rose up thepainted swathed dead?

Or did you lure unto your bed the

Tragelaphos?

Or did you love the god of flies who plaguedthe Hebrews and was

With wine unto the waist? or Pasht, who hadgreen beryls for her eyes?

Or that young god, the Tyrian, who was moreamorous than the

Of Ashtaroth? or did you love the god of

Whose wings, like strange transparent talc, rosehigh above his hawk-faced head,

Painted with silver and with red and ribbed withrods of Oreichalch?

Or did huge Apis from his car leap down andlay before your

Big blossoms of the honey-sweet and honey-coloured nenuphar?

How subtle-secret is your smile!

Did youlove none then?

Nay,

I

Great Ammon was your bedfellow!

He lay withyou beside the Nile!

The river-horses in the slime trumpeted whenthey saw him

Odorous with Syrian galbanum and smeared withspikenard and with thyme.

He came along the river bank like some tallgalley argent-sailed,

He strode across the waters, mailed in beauty,and the waters sank.

He strode across the desert sand: he reachedthe valley where you lay:

He waited till the dawn of day: then touchedyour black breasts with his hand.

You kissed his mouth with mouths of flame:you made the horned god your own:

You stood behind him on his throne: you calledhim by his secret name.

You whispered monstrous oracles into thecaverns of his ears:

With blood of goats and blood of steers youtaught him monstrous miracles.

White Ammon was your bedfellow!

Yourchamber was the steaming Nile!

And with your curved archaic smile you watchedhis passion come and go.

With Syrian oils his brows were bright:and wide-spread as a tent at

His marble limbs made pale the moon and lentthe day a larger light.

His long hair was nine cubits' span and colouredlike that yellow

Which hidden in their garment's hem themerchants bring from Kurdistan.

His face was as the must that lies upon a vat ofnew-made wine:

The seas could not insapphirine the perfect azureof his eyes.

His thick soft throat was white as milk andthreaded with thin veins of blue:

And curious pearls like frozen dew werebroidered on his flowing silk.

On pearl and porphyry pedestalled he wastoo bright to look upon:

For on his ivory breast there shone the wondrousocean-emerald,

That mystic moonlit jewel which some diver ofthe Colchian

Had found beneath the blackening waves andcarried to the Colchian witch.

Before his gilded galiot ran naked vine-wreathedcorybants,

And lines of swaying elephants knelt down todraw his chariot,

And lines of swarthy Nubians bare up his litteras he

Down the great granite-paven road between thenodding peacock-fans.

The merchants brought him steatite from Sidonin their painted ships:

The meanest cup that touched his lips wasfashioned from a chrysolite.

The merchants brought him cedar chests of richapparel bound with cords:

His train was borne by Memphian lords: youngkings were glad to be his guests.

Ten hundred shaven priests did bow to Ammon'saltar day and night,

Ten hundred lamps did wave their light

Ammon's carven house - and

Foul snake and speckled adder with their youngones crawl from stone to

For ruined is the house and prone the greatrose-marble monolith!

Wild ass or trotting jackal comes and couchesin the mouldering gates:

Wild satyrs call unto their mates across thefallen fluted drums.

And on the summit of the pile the blue-facedape of Horus

And gibbers while the fig-tree splits the pillarsof the

The god is scattered here and there: deephidden in the windy sandI saw his giant granite hand still clenched inimpotent despair.

And many a wandering caravan of statelynegroes silken-shawled,

Crossing the desert, halts appalled before theneck that none can span.

And many a bearded Bedouin draws back hisyellow-striped

To gaze upon the Titan thews of him who wasthy paladin.

Go, seek his fragments on the moor andwash them in the evening dew,

And from their pieces make anew thy mutilatedparamour!

Go, seek them where they lie alone and fromtheir broken pieces

Thy bruised bedfellow!

And wake mad passionsin the senseless stone!

Charm his dull ear with Syrian hymns! he lovedyour body! oh, be kind,

Pour spikenard on his hair, and wind soft rollsof linen round his limbs!

Wind round his head the figured coins! stainwith red fruits those pallid lips!

Weave purple for his shrunken hips! and purplefor his barren loins!

Away to Egypt!

Have no fear.

Only

God has ever died.

Only one God has let His side be wounded by asoldier's spear.

But these, thy lovers, are not dead.

Still by thehundred-cubit

Dog-faced Anubis sits in state with lotus-liliesfor thy head.

Still from his chair of porphyry gaunt Memnonstrains his lidless

Across the empty land, and cries each yellowmorning unto thee.

And Nilus with his broken horn lies in his blackand oozy

And till thy coming will not spread his waters onthe withering corn.

Your lovers are not dead,

I know.

They willrise up and hear your

And clash their cymbals and rejoice and run tokiss your mouth!

And so,

Set wings upon your argosies!

Set horses toyour ebon car!

Back to your Nile!

Or if you are grown sick ofdead

Follow some roving lion's spoor across the copper-coloured plain,

Reach out and hale him by the mane and bidhim be your paramour!

Couch by his side upon the grass and set yourwhite teeth in his

And when you hear his dying note lash yourlong flanks of polished

And take a tiger for your mate, whose ambersides are flecked with black,

And ride upon his gilded back in triumphthrough the Theban gate,

And toy with him in amorous jests, and whenhe turns, and snarls, and gnaws,

O smite him with your jasper claws! and bruisehim with your agate breasts!

Why are you tarrying?

Get hence!

Iweary of your sullen ways,

I weary of your steadfast gaze, your somnolentmagnificence.

Your horrible and heavy breath makes the lightflicker in the lamp,

And on my brow I feel the damp and dreadfuldews of night and death.

Your eyes are like fantastic moons that shiverin some stagnant lake,

Your tongue is like a scarlet snake that dancesto fantastic tunes,

Your pulse makes poisonous melodies, and yourblack throat is like the

Left by some torch or burning coal on Saracenictapestries.

Away!

The sulphur-coloured stars are hurryingthrough the Western gate!

Away!

Or it may be too late to climb their silentsilver cars!

See, the dawn shivers round the grey gilt-dialledtowers, and the

Streams down each diamonded pane and blurswith tears the wannish day.

What snake-tressed fury fresh from Hell, withuncouth gestures and unclean,

Stole from the poppy-drowsy queen and led youto a student's cell?

What songless tongueless ghost of sin creptthrough the curtains of the night,

And saw my taper burning bright, and knocked,and bade you enter in?

Are there not others more accursed, whiter withleprosies than I?

Are Abana and Pharphar dry that you come hereto slake your thirst?

Get hence, you loathsome mystery!

Hideousanimal, get hence!

You wake in me each bestial sense, you make mewhat I would not be.

You make my creed a barren sham, you wakefoul dreams of sensual life,

And Atys with his blood-stained knife werebetter than the thing I am.

False Sphinx!

False Sphinx!

By reedy Styxold Charon, leaning on his oar,

Waits for my coin.

Go thou before, and leaveme to my crucifix,

Whose pallid burden, sick with pain, watchesthe world with wearied eyes,

And weeps for every soul that dies, and weepsfor every soul in vain.

0
0
19
Подарок

Oscar Wilde

Oscar Fingal O'Flahertie Wills Wilde (16 October 1854 – 30 November 1900) was an Irish poet and playwright. After writing in different forms thr…

Другие работы автора

Комментарии
Вам нужно войти , чтобы оставить комментарий

Сегодня читают

Мотивация временем
Страдания юного Вертера краткое содержание
Ryfma
Ryfma - это социальная сеть для публикации книг, стихов и прозы, для общения писателей и читателей. Публикуй стихи и прозу бесплатно.