The Dream

Front page of the "zohar" or Jewish book of Radiance.

"The effect of the fire-light that streamed upon the dark hangings through the blood-tinted panes, was ghastly in the extreme"-

The Masque of The Red Death, Edgar Allen Poe

Dedicatory sonnet:

Though my light verse has been so highly strung

From out the muses gentle loving heart.

For you, O Keats, your verse is truly wrung

From fire trailing Helios' cart!

The verse below I do not take from you

Calliope or any other muse.

From Isabel and Madeline it's hewn,

From your sweet poems, details I do use.

Though I cannot approach your throne of gold

Eternal poet, yes I know it's true.

I drink from your sweet rhyme as if it's cold,

Like water running from a spring so blue.

Thus like a pen in hands of one who's great,

These words upon your crown will I ornate.

The Dream

A lyric

Dedicated in the memory of the eternal poet, John Keats.

Breslov, Ukraine.

December, 1810

During a black December cold,

The night had grown so very old.

The winter snow did cloak the ground

It's whiteness masking all the sound

That should fly over dewy hills,

Through forests dark, amid the chills

This silence thick and deep does reign

The sole of kings amid Ukraine.

The village silent as the dead

For all the folk lay warm in bed,

Among their lot am I indeed,

Who fly inside a realm unseen-

Tonight I dreamt a dream so odd

Filled with the radiance of God,

That such a haunting vision left

An imprint of the soul bereft

Of life and love and happiness

So far away from sacred bliss.

For in this dream was found my fear

For I am far instead of near

From the ideals which steer the world,

Thus into hell should I be hurled-

I dreamt I wandered from a wood

Into a clearing, thus I stood

Amid a gentle sea of sand

Upon a mount of hallowed land.

I saw a burning bush alight,

It filled with crimson rays the night,

And muffled was the raging fire

As it did sear it's earthen pyre.

Yet strange and quaint this ruby plume

For it the bush did not consume,

As if by divine right or sway

The verdant leaves were yet to fray.

So calm and pristine, natures yield

As if this bush fresh from a field,

It ignorant of its red robe;

The scarlet flowers of its strobe.

This inferno does not affect,

As if by force it does deflect

That which would consume all its life

Amid the burning air of strife.

My fear itself did bend my spine

To prostrate there before the sign:

“O holy flame amid the grass,

Forgive my feet if I trespass

Upon such sacred ground as this,

Yet such a sight I would not miss.

I thank you for this vision clear,

Yet wonder why I wandered here.”

A voice did pierce from there the brier

More lovely than a virgin choir,

Which made the air around me glisten,

Thus to the angel voice I listen:

"Hamakom asher ata omaid

Alav admat kodesh hu!"[1]

The voice thus thundered loud and deep,

At which a force of air did sweep

Throughout the clearing, and the light

From there the fire, cherry bright,

Did burst with such ferocity

And destroyed the vicinity-

Awake did I into my room

Adjusting to the darkened gloom.

I sat a moment paralyzed

Around me searching with my eyes.

I sat there confused, dazed, and still

Yet wond'ring was that vision real?-

After a moment of respite

I rose so lithe into the night,

And as I looked upon my bed,

A form of beauty there outspread

Upon the satin silk so frail

There laid a youth with skin so pale.

With rosy cheeks so bright and fair

To company his auburn hair

Which fell in ringlets to his ear.

Though silent as if on a bier

The boy was still as if preserved

From time's decay as he deserved

For being so exemplary

Of youthfulness and true beauty.

So gentle, lovely, natures grace

To paint him such a pretty face

Which caused me such obsession here

To which I stand and vainly stare-

The clock there ticking by the wall

Did cause my mem'ry to recall

A sliver from the crescent moon

Should shine from out the window soon,

O such a pleasant scene 'twould be

The youth enveloped in a sea

Of moonlight shining from the pane

Such satisfaction I would gain.

So wait did I a second there

Until the light did pierce the air

And fell upon the youth asleep,

Such beauty caused my eyes to weep.

For so much detail wrought the moon

As if by chisel he was hewn,

And such a view, so odd, so quaint

Did cause me to lose sense and faint-

I woke into a midnight black

Sprawled out upon a muddy track,

The only thought amid my mind

How did, myself, the street I find?

For minutes past, there in my room,

I watched the concert of the moon

There showcase such vibrant display

Of colors all in deep array.

Yet here I sit amid the snow

My bearings lost, l do not know

What brought me from my room tonight?

What apparatus gave me flight?

What magic's brand is on this act,

What demon or what hellish pact

Could cause me to appear right here

So dazed, as if out of thin air!-

I raised myself from off the ground

And set my eyes looking around,

To see there in the darkened glow,

Amid the powd'ry fall of snow,

There lit by sparse set gassy lamp

Unfolded now the whole of camp,

And empty was the village center

Resting under the white of winter.

Between the houses swayed the trees

There groaning, moaning in the breeze,

Did cause my spirit to a'fright

For in the gloomy dusk of light,

The ghastly shadows dance around

As if alive upon the ground,

And looked like ghosts or ghouls there dancing,

Or evil demons, plotting, prancing.

Too scared at what they might contain

I ran away down through the lane,

And as I wandered down the road,

An odd occurrence had me slowed;

The synagogue, a tiny place,

Did cause my terror to erase.

My eyes, could they, would they deceive,

There such a sight I can't believe;

That image from my dream tonight;

The burning bush, so very bright,

Was etched upon the window there,

To which no artist can compare

The beauty on its crystal panes

Its every detail, every grain

Illuminated by the light

A lantern spilled into the night;

It stood outside the wooden building,

With gas'ous light and vermeil gilding.

It's beauty, there, the lone lit fire,

More precious than Phoebe's Sapphire.

It shone is rays upon the glass,

It fueled there by the smokeless gas-

Then something from my soul did yearn

To leave from out the numbing burn

Of cold, thus I did walk inside,

From out the haunting night l'll hide.-

The synagogue, a single room,

Was filled with prayers like a fume,

Or like the sweet smell of incense,

The words, into the air, dispense.

For in the room three men were swaying

All of them there fervently praying

The solemn midnight requiem[2],

Their eyes shut in delirium.

Upon their face flowed free a beard

With side-curls hanging past the ear

Which swayed so happy in the air,

Aside from these they had no hair.

A sable rekel wore those three

With pure white stockings to the knee,

And on their head, a round black hat

Upon a velvet kippah sat- [3]

My eyes then wandered from the men

To search around this mystic den

To see what brought my soul tonight

To enter into this dim light;

The only light amid the blacks

Of night were candles of red wax

Which barely glowed about the room,

Thus bathe did we in blackened gloom.

The synagogue was not oblique,

But rectangle. Inside the weak

Dim candle light I sent my eyes

To see what I could recognize.

There at one end, the Torah's house[4]

Surrounded by her praying spouse,

And near the other end I saw

The window which did cause me awe.

Between these poles were wooden benches

Between which were such little trenches

Upon which many men could stand

With open prayer book in hand,

With Hebrew voices they would pray

And like a flower they would sway.-

There on each wall, letting in wind,

There were two open windows twinned:

The curtains color, strange and eerie;

Deep violet, or of elderberry,

The darkened color worn by widows,

Fluttered upon the open windows. –

At last I did walk over there

To where my eyes did want to stare,

The window facing there the street

It basking in the lanterns heat.

The lantern glowing from outside

Did force its light, so golden dyed,

To flow from out the window round

And shine its rays upon the ground.

Its reds and browns and hazel hues

Did shower there the wooden pews,

When mixed with shadows of the night

Did cause my senses to excite.

Amazed by its crystal display,

A marvel of rainbow array

Of colors branching like a tree

Of em'rald, azure, deep ruby,

And shining in the midnight mist

Were even shards of amethyst.

So beautiful the window here,

The burning bush detailed so clear.-

But then the winter storm did grow

And with it came a surge of snow

To which it stuck onto the glass

Allowing little light to pass.

The window turned a pearly white

To which I marveled in delight.

I watched as every icy flake

Of snow did turn the glass opaque,

My vision through the window lost

As if coated with morning frost.-

My wonder there yet couldn't last,

The die of fate had then been cast

For as I looked upon the white,

What gave delight then turned to fright:

The snow had turned from white to red,

A sanguine ice imposing dread,

This red snow filled the blood-tint pane,

Or was it really bloody rain?-

The lantern's light did shine so eerie

As if some ghastly beam so dreary,

It masking all the room in red

Making this little house look dead.

I looked around, and to my fear

The three men there did disappear.

I looked and, there! The wood turned grey,

Or was it brick? I cannot say.

And where the windows, did they go?

Letting inside the wint'ry snow.

The room was empty, me aside,

No door there seen nor exit wide.

Alone am I inside this room

Infernal trap, a crimson tomb.-

Only the window round was there

Still sending light into the air,

A bloody shade of hellish ray

Did shine into the midnight gray.

Yet was it midnight? Where is time

Without a father clock to chime?

My only port to see outside

The damnèd window, crimson dyed.

My hope thus lost, my panic rose

Assume did I a dying pose,

For there is no escaping here

Without some divine help I fear.

Laying upon the cold brick floor

My soul sought reason to implore

What sin of mine did cause me this

What holy virtue did I miss?

Yet whether caused by fate or sin

Something did break my attention:

The window turned a sable shade

And into blackness I was bade.-

My vision turned a shade of red

And wake did I upon my bed,

In sweat and chills so violent there,

Alive inside the winter air.

So startled by my dream tonight

I stared around my room in fright

For now I realized that I died.

The youth upon the bed I spied

With such a solemn whitened face

There laying in death's stale embrace,

Was me myself, I now realize,

Hidden inside my dreams disguise.

Though why I didn't realize then

Just added to my confusion:

What was that chamber trapping me

To rot in black eternity?

And in my mind’s eye still I see

The window round colored ruby.

Was it a bout of prophecy

To tell of true reality?

This nighttime vision, strange and weird,

Yet was it real? I sat and feared...

[1] These are the precise words transliterated from the Hebrew verses spoken to Moses at the event of the Burning Bush in the book of Exodus.

[2] This is the midnight prayer called in Hebrew “Tikkun Chatzot” or the midnight rectification. It is a requiem because its main function is to mourn the loss of the Jewish temple in Jerusalem.

[3] These descriptions are using original Hebrew and Yiddish names for tradition Hasidic Jewish clothing that would be seen by a citizen of Breslov, Ukraine in the early 19th century, when that town was occupied by Breslover Hasidim, a sect of ultra-orthodox Jews named after the town. A Rekel is a long black week-day coat worn still today in some circles and a Kippah is a head covering worn by religious Jews around the world.

[4] The Torah’s house in an analogous way to say the “ark” in a synagogue, which houses the Torah scrolls read during religious services.

#poem #judaism #philosophy #mystery #poetry