Pan Lives!
In the stony peaks and valleys
Of this great metropolis
In the dark and frightful alleys
A nymph still hopes for bliss
I can hear her passionate cry
Repeating my desire
Her passion soars through the sky
I feel her pain and fire
In the city's looking-glass
That reflects my dim repose
I wonder if it's me I pass
What does my heart expose
Have I run from opportunity
Like Narcissus alone
Missing the community
Where my spirit I might hone
Great Pan, we're told, is cold and dead
What vigor have we lost
Without him we have slowly bled
From our senses tossed
But do not let the cold and dark
Freeze your human blood
Into the sacred realms embark
Trudge through the forest mud
Pan LIVES, and he is everywhere
I hear his sacred reed
In concert halls and open air
He shares his lover’s creed
The fairies, satyr, and the faun
New music, praise, and verse
Have awakened a new dawn
To remove the modern curse
Of self-asphyxiation
With arrogance and pride
Let’s worship Earth, not nation
And carry Pan inside!
Free Echo from her prison
Release her gift of speech
Independence has arisen
And Bacchus is in reach
Let Arcadia live again
Shine through concrete walls
Cultivate the green within
Hear Gaia's calls
***
Theo J. van Joolen©2010
Of this great metropolis
In the dark and frightful alleys
A nymph still hopes for bliss
I can hear her passionate cry
Repeating my desire
Her passion soars through the sky
I feel her pain and fire
In the city's looking-glass
That reflects my dim repose
I wonder if it's me I pass
What does my heart expose
Have I run from opportunity
Like Narcissus alone
Missing the community
Where my spirit I might hone
Great Pan, we're told, is cold and dead
What vigor have we lost
Without him we have slowly bled
From our senses tossed
But do not let the cold and dark
Freeze your human blood
Into the sacred realms embark
Trudge through the forest mud
Pan LIVES, and he is everywhere
I hear his sacred reed
In concert halls and open air
He shares his lover’s creed
The fairies, satyr, and the faun
New music, praise, and verse
Have awakened a new dawn
To remove the modern curse
Of self-asphyxiation
With arrogance and pride
Let’s worship Earth, not nation
And carry Pan inside!
Free Echo from her prison
Release her gift of speech
Independence has arisen
And Bacchus is in reach
Let Arcadia live again
Shine through concrete walls
Cultivate the green within
Hear Gaia's calls
***
Theo J. van Joolen©2010
Pan Is Dead
‘Pan is dead. Great Pan is dead.
Ah! bow your heads, ye maidens all,
And weave ye him his coronal.’
'There is no summer in the leaves,
And withered are the sedges;
How shall we weave a coronal,
Or gather floral pledges?'
'That I may not say, Ladies.
Death was ever a churl.
That I may not say, Ladies.
How should he show a reason,
That he has taken our Lord away
Upon such hollow season?'
Ezra Pound [c. 1917]
‘Pan is dead. Great Pan is dead.
Ah! bow your heads, ye maidens all,
And weave ye him his coronal.’
'There is no summer in the leaves,
And withered are the sedges;
How shall we weave a coronal,
Or gather floral pledges?'
'That I may not say, Ladies.
Death was ever a churl.
That I may not say, Ladies.
How should he show a reason,
That he has taken our Lord away
Upon such hollow season?'
Ezra Pound [c. 1917]