Liber Liberi
vel Lapidis Lazuli
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Prologue of the Unborn
- 1.
- Into my loneliness comes --
- 2.
- The sound of a flute in dim groves that haunt the uttermost hills.
- 3.
- Even from the brave river they reach to the edge of the wilderness.
- 4.
- And I behold Pan.
- 5.
- The snows are eternal above, above --
- 6.
- And their perfume smokes upward into the nostrils of the stars.
- 7.
- But what have I to do with these?
- 8.
- To me only the distant flute, the abiding vision of Pan.
- 9.
- On all sides Pan to the eye, to the ear;
- 10.
- The perfume of Pan pervading, the taste of him utterly filling my mouth, so that the tongue breaks forth into a weird and monstrous speech.
- 11.
- The embrace of him intense on every centre of pain and pleasure.
- 12.
- The sixth interior sense aflame with the inmost self of Him,
- 13.
- Myself flung down the precipice of being
- 14.
- Even to the abyss, annihilation.
- 15.
- An end to loneliness, as to all.
- 16.
- Pan! Pan! Io Pan! Io Pan!
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