Give Me the Mountains of Magic [*POEM*]


“Where are we really going? Always home.”
— Novalis 


Give me the Mountains of Magic
Where the birds of paradise sing
In a sacramental language 
Sweet songs of infinite longing. 

Give me the Gardens of Longing
In a visionary world never seen,
Give me the lost Lands of Morning
Where my love is all she has been.

Give me the face of my darling,
Come back to me, back from the dead,
Radiant with joy and thanksgiving
With a rainbow round her head.

Here’s my desire—let it be done!—
Let me walk with my angel soon
Through the golden fields of the sun
Where it’s always, always, High Noon.

— XANADU, Translations from an Imaginary Language 

4 thoughts to “Give Me the Mountains of Magic [*POEM*]”

  1. “I can hear old guitars a playing, on the beach at Hoonaunau
    I can hear the Hawaiians saying “Komomai no kaua ika hale welakahao””
    (where the humuhumunukunukuapua’a goes swimming by)

  2. Beautiful poem. I’m tempted, however, to begin to see some truth and justification in TROJ’s satirical/critical comments about the seemingly never ending poems on a woman whom Lasha loved and tragically lost and over whom she seems to obsess, and possibly to excess. I’m reminded of the ending of one of the greatest poems in the English language, “The Hound of Heaven” by Francis Thompson:

    All which I took from thee I did but take,
    Not for thy harms,
    But just that thou might’st seek it in My arms.
    All which thy child’s mistake
    Fancies as lost, I have stored for thee at home:
    Rise, clasp My hand, and come!”
    Halts by me that footfall:
    Is my gloom, after all,
    Shade of His hand, outstretched caressingly?
    “Ah, fondest, blindest, weakest,
    I am He Whom thou seekest!
    Thou dravest love from thee, who dravest Me.”

    Francis Thompson (1859-1907)

    Also, I always assumed, especially considering her writings against the evils of the sexual revolution, porn, sodomy, etc., that Lasha was not herself afflicted by an affective disorder of a sexual nature.

  3. Happy are the birds on high
    Sad are the lovers below who cry
    because their loved ones
    have died
    we sigh
    for we can not ease the pain
    of lovers by death separated
    and Oh!
    Oh banish the thought!
    When the sands of time run out [ an English British idiom expression! ]
    If one lover goes to heaven and the other NOT
    all the hopes of reunion for naught
    all those beautiful dreams of the future
    now nightmares fraught with failure
    life can be grim,
    still, let us sing an Uplifting hymn, *grin*
    of Eternal Truth and Beauty
    of this Life so bittersweet
    a Life of Hellos and Good-Byes
    and strangers in the night
    Unconsummated relationships
    and dreamy dreamboat lovers,
    teenage crushes
    and first date kisses
    and later disappointment
    broken promises
    and shattered hearts
    loneliness and confusion
    yet, how happily the birds fly up in the sky
    while lovers below cry and cry!
    for dreams lost in the hazy fog of time
    after the love making so Hot!
    the lovers part and go separate ways
    one goes to Heaven and one NOT. *grin*

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