Thomas Henry Huxley

That my personality is the surest thing I know may be true. But the attempt to conceive what it is leads me into mere verbal subtleties. I have champed up all that chaff about the ego and the non-ego, noumena and phenomena, and all the rest of it, too often not to know that in attempting even to think of these questions, the human intellect flounders at once out of its depth...

Monday, December 10, 2007

Night Comes On, Leonard Cohen

I went down to the place
where I knew she lay waiting
under the marble and the snow.

I said, Mother, I'm frightened,
the thunder and the lightning,
I'll never come through this alone.

She said, I'll be with you,
my shawl wrapped around you,
my hand on your head when you go.

And the night came on,
it was very calm;
I wanted the night to go on and on
but she said, Go back.
Go back to the World.

We were fighting in Egypt
when they signed this agreement
that nobody else had to die.

There was this terrible sound,
my father went down
with a terrible wound in his side.

He said, Try to go on:
take my books, take my gun.
Remember, my son, how they lied.

And the night comes on,
It's very calm
I'd like to pretend that my father was wrong
but you don't want to lie, not to the young.

We were locked in this kitchen,
I took to religion
and I wondered how long she would stay.

I needed so much
to have nothing to touch;
I've always been greedy that way.

But my son and my daughter
climbed out of the water,
crying, Papa, you promised to play!

And they lead me away to the great surprise:
It's Papa, don't peek, Papa, cover your eyes,
and they hide,
they hide in the World.

Now I look for her always,
I'm lost in this calling.
I'm tied to the threads of some prayer.

Saying, When will she summon me?
When will she come to me?
What must I do to prepare?

When she bends to my longing,
like a willow, like a fountain,
she stands in the luminous air.

And the night comes on,
It's very calm.
I lie in her arms.
She says when I'm gone
I'll be yours, yours for a song.

Now the crickets are singing,
the vesper bells ringing,
the cat's curled asleep in his chair.

I'll go down to Bill's Bar,
I can make it that far,
and I'll see if my friends are still there.

Yes, and here's to the few
who forgive what you do,
and the fewer who don't even care.

And the night comes on,
It's very calm.
I want to cross over. I want to go home,
but she says, Go back.
Go back to the World.

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