Saturday, June 27, 2015
Saint Antony’s Nightmare
Saint Antony: ‘The dead are pale, faded, they stock each other, live in the eyes of the past, bewildered, and profound—‘
The ascetic sees demons in the shape of beasts, and the remnants of the Gates of Ctesiphon, are piled all about them—
Their black cloaks are fastened by dead men’s bones!
They flog one another, and laugh at their aching limbs and burning caresses…
Their hair fastened by vipers, and the face of: Cain, Sodom, and Pilate, Nero stares at Antony, as Judas yelps: “Thanks to me God saved the world!”
Those faces are made of wolf-skin, they are envious of Antony’s dog’s bone meal.
The old ones, older than written time, from the pre-Adamic era, are all dried up, like mummies—
Their glances dull; they have long white eyebrows they are eating grasshoppers, and at the same time, as their mouths quiver exclaim:
‘Come, come, be swift about it, there are no crimes here, the need here below is of the love of God, and He is gone! We are made for the Devil!’
Knouphis lights some argil lamps, gives light to Antony’s nightmare, more like a vision now—
The light smothers the long legged fluttering mosquitos…
Antony’s mind is fragmented, his thoughts twisted, imps are trying to rope and tie him from the windings of entrails!
There is no manifestation, not today, not like other days.
One of the old ones snatches the bone from Antony’s dog.
And the nightmare that had emerged as if through a hole in the wall, and so it disappears.