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lirik lagu charles simic - the initiate

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st. john of the cross wore dark gl-sses
as he p-ssed me on the street
st. theresa of avila, beautiful and grave
turned her back on me

“soulmate,” they hissed. “it’s high time.”

i was a blind child, a wind-up toy . .
i was one of death’s juggling red b-lls
on a certain street corner
where they peddle things out of suitcases

the city like a huge cinema
with lights dimmed
the performance already started

so many blurred faces in a complicated plot

the great secret which kept eluding me: knowing who i am . .

the redeemer and the virgin
their eyes wide open in the empty church
where the k!ller came to hide himself . .

the new snow on the sidewalk bore footprints
that could have been made by bare feet
some unknown penitent guiding me
in truth, i didn’t know where i was going
my feet were frozen
my stomach growled

four young hoods blocking my way
three deadpan, one smiling crazily

i let them have my black raincoat

thinking constantly of the divine love
and the absolute had disfigured me
people mistook me for someone else
i heard voices after me calling out unknown names
“i’m searching for someone to sell my soul to,”
the drunk who followed me whispered
while appraising me from head to foot

at the address i had been given
the building had large x’s over its windows
i knocked but no one came to open
by and by a black girl joined me on the steps
she banged at the door till her fist hurt

her name was alma, a propitious sign
she knew someone who solved life’s riddles
in a voice of an ancient sumerian queen
we had a long talk about that
while shivering and stamping our wet feet

it was necessary to stay calm, i explained
even with the earth trembling
and to continue to watch oneself
as if one were a complete stranger

once in chicago, for instance
i caught sight of a man in a shaving mirror
who had my naked shoulders and face
but whose eyes terrified me!
two hard staring, all-knowing eyes!

after we parted, the night, the cold, and the endless walking
brought on a kind of ecstasy
i went as if pursued, trying to warm myself

there was the east river; there was the hudson
their waters shone like oil in sanctuary lamps

something supreme was occurring
for which there will never be any words

the sky was full of racing clouds and tall buildings
whirling and whirling silently

in that whole city you could hear a pin drop
believe me
i thought i heard a pin drop and i went looking for it


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