Collected Poems Anthony Burgess (best pdf reader for ebooks txt) 📖

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Through anybody else’s brother. Forget all about it.

You’re wasting your time. Nobody’s coming from over there.

This Lord God you talk about has forgotten.

He has other things on his mind. Let me take you back.’

But Aaron smiled. ‘You seem,’ said the ferryman, ‘to be a

Decent sort of a man. Touched, a bit, but that may be the sun.

I’ll take you back. I’ll return your fare to you.

Half of it anyway.’ But Aaron smiled. The fight, he saw,

Was a fight against a man who, ferrying from bank to bank,

Believed they were travelling. Good men, no doubt of it.

Given time, they could be fought with words. Words:

Words were a comfort as well as a weapon. So he landed,

Sketched a blessing, smiling, and the ferryman

Offered a swig of sour wine. Then, head-shaking,

He waited for a boatload of the sane, seeking the world,

Egypt. Aaron now left the freedom of slavery

And sought the prison of the desert. Solitary, terrified,

When night fell, of the geometry of the stars,

He spoke to himself, or to someone: ‘There is, you see,

The question of convincing them. So set,

All of them, in their ways. Made soft by slavery.

Who is he? Who? Never heard of him. Show us a

Sign. Give us a sign. What signs does he have?

Does he have any signs? Signs are what we need. Signs.

You know what we mean? Signs. Signs. Signs.

Something out of nothing. Miracles,

Miracles is the word. You know the word. Miracles.’

A star shot. The sky swung like a pendulum.

Then day, a mirage of green, mirage of a caravan,

Vultures gyrated, swooped. The corpse of a dog

In the rocks. Vultures swooped. ‘Listen, Moses.

Listen, brother. Brother. You know that word?

You know these words I speak now? The joys of

Slavery. The relief at not having to be

Free any more. A terrible word, freedom.

We are degraded, yes. But it is hardly our fault,

Is it, hardly our fault. Only slaves.

We are only slaves. You see, Moses? Do you

Understand the words I speak to you, Moses?’

A black sky, starless, with a dying moon.

‘Signs. You know, signs. You know what we mean?

Signs, signs.’ Day and a fierce wind and he lay then

Talking talking, half-buried in a sand-drift.

Sand in the furrows of his face, till a hand came

Gently to clear the sand, and he saw the hand,

The arm. It was the eyes, he knew the eyes then,

And the mouth quiet in the beard of one who, he saw

With shock, was no longer young. Said to himself: No word.

And no word. It is the first sign. No word.

For though the word is in him it is I I I

Who must speak the word. And so, together,

With few words, words unneeded, they

Stumbled back into Egypt. And, in black night,

Unseen to Miriam’s house in Pithom. Unseen

But heard of, guessed at. There was a morning

When the whip was hardly felt: Came two days ago

Over the river. And the children talked: ‘Gave signs.

Turned his stick into a snake.’ – ‘But signs of what?’

‘Signs that he is a god. They’re always saying

That we’re going to have a god. Well, here he is.’ –

‘But what is a god for?’ And the old men talked:

‘Something about his arm having leprosy on it.

Then he puts his arm on his robe and pulls it out

And the leprosy’s gone.’ – ‘That’s an Egyptian trick.

He sounds like an Egyptian to me. Somebody coming

To make us all work harder.’ But Dathan, plumper now,

His linen bright, his fingers flashing in the sun,

Spoke of the newcomer not to fellow-slaves

But to the enslavers: ‘Moses. Brother of Aaron.

The one who killed the Egyptian and ran away.

He’s back now, thinks no one remembers.’

What is all this? What tale do you think you’re

‘True. Look, sir, I was always a friend of Egypt.

I can give good information. Valuable. This Moses

Is up to no good. I would appreciate,

Sir, a little Egyptian generosity…’

To work. You are drunk. Go on, friend of Egypt.

Young girls spoke of a god, golden-haired,

With a firm strong body, young, bearing comfort,

Making life easier (said the older women).

But to Aaron fell the task of talk, to the elders,

To the young who bore authority: Joshua was one,

Hard-eyed but supple of thought, as though thought were muscle.

‘What god’? an elder said, and patiently,

Aaron: ‘The God who spoke from the burning bush

On Mount Horeb. The bush burned and was not consumed.’

And the voice said: ‘I am the God of Abraham,

Of Isaac, Jacob. I am sending one who shall

Set my people free.’ But another elder, doubtful:

‘It is the notion of the one god that I

Find tough to eat. What is this god’s position

In relation to the other gods? That, I would say,

Is a reasonable thing to ask.’ Patiently, Aaron:

‘There are no other gods. God is God.

The God of the Israelites is God, the one God.’ –

‘The one remaining god, is that what you mean?’ –

‘Our thinking’, Aaron said firmly, ‘has become

Egyptian thinking. The Egyptians see the world

As multiple, various. Do you understand me?

There are, they say, many things in the world of sense

And, so the Egyptians argue, there must accordingly

Be many things in the heavens, matching, ruling

The many things of earth. We Israelites

Never believed that. In the beginning we knew

That all was one, that All was made by One.

We forgot the knowledge. Now, my brothers, we are

To remember that knowledge. Remember it in action.

It is that knowledge that is to set us free.’

And an elder wavered in doubt: ‘Free – you mean

Free to leave Egypt?’ Aaron said: ‘Just that.’ And Joshua:

‘Mere knowledge, I would say, sets no man free.

Man, I would say, does not find freedom through God,

But God through freedom.’ Aaron: ‘And how does he,

How do we find freedom? We cannot fight

These Egyptians with Egyptian weapons. We have no

Battering-rams or crossbows. We can achieve freedom

Only by knowing the power of God and knowing

That one man can call down that power.’ – ‘Knowing?’ –

‘You have heard of the signs. Of the miracles.’ – ‘Heard, yes.

But seen, no.’ – ‘You will see, will certainly see.

But meantime, you must believe.’ – ‘Must? Must believe?’

‘A man must believe there is a better life

Than this life of bondage. Our God is not a

God