To you, creation’s mighty principle, matter no and spirit reason and sense. Whilst the wine sparkles in cups like the soul in the eye. Whilst earth and sun exchange their smiles and words of love and shudders from their secret embrace run down from the mountains, and the plain throbs with new life. To you my daring verses are unleashed, you I invoke, O Satan monarch of the feast. Put aside your sprinkler, priest, and your litanies! No, priest, Satan does not retreat! Behold! Rust erodes the mystic sword of Michael and the faithful. Even the Archangel Michael, who led the army of faithful angels against Lucifer’s rebels, is deplumed and left with a rusted sword. Archangel, deplumed, drops into the void. The thunderbolt lies frozen in Jehovah ’s hand
Like pale meteors, spent worlds, the angels drop from the firmament The rebel angels descent to Earth from the heavens. In shape shifting matter, king of phenomena, monarch of form, . Satan alone lives. Or the eye which languidly turns and resists, or which, bright and moist, provokes, insists….in the flashing eye of a woman in a state of arousal, He shines in the bright blood of grapes, by which transient joy persists,… in the glimmer of a glass of wine, which makes us happy, Which restores fleeting life, keeps grief at bay, and inspires us with love You breathe, O Satan in my verses, when from my heart explodes a death-blow to god. and like lightning you shock men’s minds. Sculpture, painting and poetry first lived for you, Ahriman, Adonis and Astarte. When Venus Anadyomene blessed the clear Ionian skies.
For you the trees of Lebanon shook, resurrected lover of the holy Cyprian:
For you wild dances were done and choruses swelled for you virgins offered their spotless love, Amongst the perfumed palms of Idumea where the Cyprian seas foam.
To what avail did the barbarous Christian fury of agape, in obscene ritual, With holy torch burn down your temples, scattering their Greek statuary? You, a refugee, the mindful people welcomed into their homes amongst their household gods Thereafter filling the throbbing female heart with your fervor as both god and lover You inspired the witch, pallid from endless enquiry, to succor suffering nature. You, to the intent gaze of the alchemist, and to the skeptical eye of the sorcerer.
You revealed bright new heavens beyond the confines of the drowsy cloister. Fleeing from material things, where you reside, the dreary monk took refuge in the Theban desert.
To you O soul with your sprig severed, Satan is benign: he gives you your Helios.
You mortify yourself to no purpose, in your rough sackcloth:
Satan still murmurs to you
Amidst the dirge and wailing of the Psalms; and he brings to your side the divine shapes, horrid black crowd, of Lycoris and Glycera. But other shapes from a more glorious age.
Gracefully fill the sleepless cell.
Satan, from pages in Livy, conjures fervent tribunes, consuls, restless throngs; And he thrusts you,O monk, with your memories of Italy’s proud past upon the Capitol. And you whom the raging pyre could not destroy, voices of destiny.
Already Kings and crowns tremble from the cloister rebellion rumbles! Preaching defiance in the voice! As Martin Luther threw off his monkish robes, so throw off your shackles, O mind of man, And crowned with flame, shoot lightning and thunder!
Matter, arise, Satan has won!
Both beautiful and awful a monster is unleashed it scours the oceans is scours the land. Glittering and belching smoke like a volcano, it conquers the hillside, devours the plains. It flies over chasms, then burrows into unknown caverns along deepest paths; To re-emerge, unconquerable from shore to shore it bellows out like a whirl wind, Like a whirl wind it spews its breath
It is Satan, you people’s, Great Satan passes by.
He passes by, bringing blessing from place to place,upon his unstoppable chariot of fire.
Hail O Satan, O Rebellion, Oh you avenging force of human reason!
Let holy incense and prayers rise to you!
You have utterly vanquished the Jehovah of the Priests.