Collected Poems by Anthony Burgess (best e ink reader for manga txt) 📕

taste of a bit of bread, a mouthful of water,

Sitting at the door, watching the evening come on

With the circling of the bats. The things you talk of

Are only in the mind. We are too old, I tell you,

For this talk of common goals and purposes and journeys.’

And Aaron was angry, shouting: ‘You speak thus,

When the Lord your God exerts himself beyond

What may be thought of as proper for a God.

For God has shown himself in the running blood of the

Rivers, in the swarming gnats and flies.

God leaves us unscathed and wholesome while all Egypt

Screams. Does this mean nothing?’ And one said:

‘It means, I suppose, that we are the chosen people.

Means we must face the desert and dream of the promise.

It means – oh, is it so blasphemous

To wish to be left alone?’

Then came the locusts,

Stripping the trees, save in the vale of Goshen,

Where Pithom sat. And then came boils and ulcers,

And lancings, and running of pus, the afflicted

Wretched, waiting in line for the lancet, and the

General wonder that things should be as they were.

Had the gods failed Pharaoh? How could they fail

One who was one of themselves? Was it some demon?

But no demon could be mightier than the gods’

Whole army. Pharaoh had done so much

To the glory of the gods – opulent monuments.

He had done for the gods far more than the

Gods might reasonably expect to be done. The pyramids.

Take the pyramids. To count the bricks in

One pyramid alone would take up years. What then

Had gone wrong? ‘They wonder’, Aaron said,

In conclave in Pithom, ‘what has gone wrong. But they know

That we remain untouched, this they know. They fear us.

It is a new thing for the Israelites to be feared.’

Miriam said: ‘We were always feared. If the Egyptians

Had merely destroyed us, our memory still

Would have been feared. There are many dead nations

That growl out of their ashes. But they brought us low,

They made us despised among nations. And the fear –

How is it now expressed? They are already beginning

To bribe us into leaving, to skulking out

In the dark.’ And she looking at Dathan, who,

In a corner of Aaron’s house, gloated over

A little hoard of jewels and gold pieces,

Egyptian bribes. Dathan said: ‘I shall be happy

To take charge of all this side of our

Operation. We need such resources presumably.

Nor is there any need to wait to be given.

One may take. Take. There are any number

Of fine villas already abandoned. Death. The plague.

I knew some of the victims well. Through my position.

They’re well served now, God curse them.’ Now Moses spoke,

Saying: ‘The potter has his craft, so has the builder,

So has the maker of songs. The Lord too

Has his craft. And it may be called. A

Dance of numbers. So far he has smitten

Egypt seven times. Rivers of blood.

Frogs. Gnats. Flies. A striking down of their

Sheep and cattle. The curse of the teeth of the

Locusts. Now the plague.’ On the mud floor

He marked in strokes with his staff to the number seven.

‘The making of the world,’ he said, ‘was a dance of seven.

The bringing low of Egypt. Will be a

Dance of ten.’ They listened. ‘For in the heart of

Pharaoh there must be a kind of dance.

It must soften. It must harden. It must

Soften again. Must harden for one last time.

And then, like stone, it must crack. It must

Shatter. And Egypt. Must shatter with it. Delay.

Some of you think of delay and fret. But remember.

The Lord must have his craft. And we need the delay.

We must gather our possessions. Our carts. Cattle.

There is a matter of supplies. Grain. Water.

We must prepare. Our order of march. Think of the

Sick. The unwilling. The cries of those who

Would be left. To last out their days. In Goshen.

Women with child. Many problems. The question of

Unifying the clans. Creating degrees of leadership.’

‘The question of arms, defence,’ Joshua said,

Eager though battered, scarred, limping. ‘The army.

The training of an army.’ – ‘That too, Joshua.’ –

‘The treasury,’ Dathan smiled.

      In the imperial palace,

In full assembly, ministers about him, Pharaoh paced,

Hiding his deep agitation, while a scribe

Read figures out: ‘One hundred and seventeen thousand

Five hundred and sixty-seven. This is the latest

Computation, your divine majesty.’ Pharaoh said:

‘I am not greatly interested in numbers. So many dead,

So many lost cattle, devastated fields. It is not

Flesh and bone and possessions we lose,

For these can be replaced a millionfold.

It is the heart of the empire, the central idea…’

And a minister said, in pain: ‘With respect, majesty,

You cannot so easily ignore the suffering of

Your subjects. It is an essential in kingship:

The king must see himself as a head, his kingdom the body.

Must not the head feel the anguish of the body?’ But Pharaoh:

‘It is the heart that feels, not the head.

The head must be clear. The heart clouds and confuses.

Let us hear no talk of feeling. Thinking –

That concerns us now.’ But the minister cried:

‘If you have suffered – if you had lost – ’ And another:

‘If I may say this, majesty, our friend is distraught.

He has lost both his wife and daughter.’ But Pharaoh said:

‘He can have another wife within a day.

Another daughter within a year. I do not wish

To listen to womanish laments and improper rebukes.

Let us quieten our hearts. Let the head speak. Listen.’

And they listened. Pharaoh said: ‘This empire, Egypt,

Is the greatest the world has ever seen, perhaps

The greatest it will ever see. Our cities

Are crammed with all manner of merchandise, our ships

Sail all the known seas. Our towers kiss heaven,

Our armies shake the earth. We prosper, prospered…

At the very core of our empire lies a truth.

Or shall I say a belief that has long been taken

For a truth – the belief that the ruler of the empire

Has been appointed by the gods themselves,

That the Pharaoh is the issue of their flesh. How then can

The Nile fail to bless the land, the land

Fail to groan with the overwhelming

Blessing of increase? But now the gods

Seem to turn against their own flesh. Starvation.

Disease. Dissension. Fratricide. Distrust of authority.

Why? Why? Can the changeless gods then change?

Can the eternally strong grow weak? Can, from nowhere,

A new god appear