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superlative loss in the wistful twilight’s dew, or the “No- One’s-Rose:” “With/our pistil soul-bright,/our stamen heaven-waste,/our corona red/from the purple word we sang,/over O over/the thorn.”34 Over the thorns, our souls awaken to the angelic child, to the new song of the Bard. He is the weeping messenger: the one that listens, hears, and responds by delivering the cosmic song, the upholder and savior of the universe, able to awaken in all of us, the rhythmic music of the spheres into being 3⁄4 enchanting,
“Hear the voice of the Bard... calling the lapsed soul,
and weeping in the evening dew: that might control
the starry pole
and fallen fallen light renew!” (Verses 1, 6-10)35
As messenger, prophet and dweller in-between worlds, the Bard is also the world’s Apollonian healer. Weeping, he heals the lapsed soul 3⁄4 us 3⁄4 the fields of grass, this heaven, this earth, this longing for Light with his energy, his song, his Love. And thus, the Bard’s divine gift of
34 Celan, Paul. Selected Poems and Prose. Translated by John Felstiner. Psalm. New York: London: W.W.W. Norton. 2001. 157
35 Blake, William. The Poetry and Prose of W. Blake. “Songs of Experience.” Introduction. New York: Doubleday & Company, Inc., 1970.
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