Four Poems from "Let Us Compare Mythologies" (1956) - Leonard Cohen (1934-2016)

 

PRAYER FOR SUNSET

The sun is tangled
        in black branches,

raving like Absalom

        between sky and water,

struggling through the dark terebinth

to commit its daily suicide.

Now, slowly, the sea consumes it,

leaving a glistening wound

        on the water,

        a red scar on the horizon;

In darkness

        I set out for home,

terrified by the clash of wind on grass,

and the victory cry of weeds  and water.

Is there no Joab tomorrow night,

         with three darts

         and a great heap of stones?

.::

BALLAD

He pulled a flower

out of the moss

and struggled past soldiers

to stand at the cross.

He dipped the flower

into a wound

and hoped that a garden

would grow in his hand.

The hanging man shivered

at this gentle thrust

and ripped his flesh

from the flower´s touch,

and said in a voice

they had not heard,

´Will petals find roots

in the wounds where I bleed?´

´Will minstrels learn songs

from a tongue which is torn

and sick be made whole

through rents in my skin?´

The people knew something

like a god had spoken

and stared with fear

at the nails they had driven.

And they fell on the man

with spear and knife

to honour the voice

with a sacrifice.

O the hanging man

had words for the crowd

but she was tired

and the prayers were loud.

He thought of islands

alone in the sea

and sea water bathing

dark roots of each tree;

of tidal waves lunging

over the land,

over these crosses

these hills and this man.

He thought of towns

and fields and wheat,

of men and this man

buthe could not speak.

O they hid tow bodies

behind a stone;

day became night

and the crowd went home.

And men from Golgotha

assure that still 

gardeners in vain

pour blood in that soil.

.::

SATAN IN WESTMOUNT

One noticed his hands,

finely carved,

almost the colour of jade,

and the fingernails,

pink and cultivated.

        He spoke of Art

        and of poetry

        and held us with descriptions

        of the Masters.

Often when walking

he sang fragments

of austere Spanish songs 

from the Court of Ferdinand,

and quoted Dante

accurately and often.

       But in his lapel,

       discreetly,

       he wore a sprig of asphodel.

.::

SAVIOURS

The Roman sport of crucifixion

casts across the lands and oceans

an old heavy shadow

which has grown into all graves

In the valleys men review 

their people´s documents

and parties are dispatched to find

this heap of stones and this cave and this pillar

And dead heroes are raised on wood

above their discovered tombs

to rehearse their ancient arguments

Nailed high on a mountain

Moses stares beyond the Jordan

beyond the giants and crumbling walls

and sighs an Egyptian curseoled 

Job hangs in a burnt field

unable to frighten the crows

his friends still talking at his feet

and no whirlwind disturbs the quiet desolation

David swings from his roof

and the people say that in his mind

he and his warriors build a great temple

And all the saints and prophets

are nailed to stakes and desert trees

All the Kings and men of ages

with deathless words and singing harps

are exhumed to die again in the wilderness

See whom they bring us today

hearing him triumphantly  through the traffic

singing before his death

O he will love us O he will approve us

See how the temple girls scent their skins

and prepare the forest beds

how the priests have cut their bodies with whips

how the bulls are led glistening like pools of oil

between the rows of worshippers.

-==

From Let Us Compare Mythologies, Leonard Cohen, 1956. Heirs of Leonard Cohen,