Tuesday, February 16, 2010

Count Cagliostro in the Papal Prison of San Leo, 1791-1795

Immured here,damned,abandoned to die...

The furthest-fallen man in Christendom,

Greatest angel in the echoing abyss.

All Europe once spoke my name in awe

And responded to my mesmeric passes.

Why must men destroy what they cannot understand?

I strove to bring them truth and ritual,

To awaken them to their own forgotten powers.

Heal and rejuvenate mankind? Why,of course,

That could never be allowed.

I saw into their souls,a gift not easily forgiven.

They are not yet ready to return to Egypt

Nor read the Book of the Dead.

How childish is man in his understanding,

Eager for toys and entertainment-

Thus they tried to reduce my magic

To games and pastimes for fashionable soirées

And when I refused called me impostor.

Fools’ envy has been my misfortune.

The mind is God and the mind is light.

By words,herbs and stones I moved the world,

Healed thousands with my hands and eyes,

And manufactured the elixir of immortality;

The griffin-guarded liquid gold was mine!

Curse the Inquisitors for robbing me

Of my Serpent Seal-the snake with an apple

In its mouth,pierced by an arrow-

The Aleph of spirit and life,the Arcanum,

Signature of liberty,power and duty.

This fetid verminous oubliette is all I have

Of the world-tortured more by betrayals

Than by thumbscrews and rack-

And so on its dank walls I paint

With rust flakes and my own urine

Alchemical symbols of transmutation

And shout through the bars to villagers below

The horrid prophecies I see in dreams.

Slaves of the church, do not pray for me,

My soul needs no false salvation-it is free

Already,even as this screaming body rots

Back into the prima materia...

Kind tormentors,I proffer you my skull

That you should drink its alembroth

And be wise!My thanks for this quarantine,

In which I achieve the pentagon.

The Martian iron is in me,the force of art;

The gold and silver sword of Solomon

Fits my hand perfectly,-en garde!

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