Ákařa

Ákařa danced in the Nameless Land,
And her steps were light and free.
She had no music, but the deer kept time,
And the birds trilled the melody.

No words were spoken, no voices heard,
The waters murmured soft.
The breeze in the forest a whisper only
From the trembling leaves evoked.

No man knows where that land lies,
What stars adorn its nights.
Woman only can find the way,
Who knows there not to speak.

So time to time, Ákařa danced
In a circle of maidens like herself,
And many slender graceful arms
Wove patterns unloomable alone.

And if some sister innocently
Brought horn or lyre thither,
'Twas taken from her, with a kiss,
To rest unsounded until she left.

No voices may speak in Epolidendum,
No human sounds be heard:
No sweet flute's breath, no plangent string,
No tap of drum, no plaintive chord.

Mrada dreamed of Ákařa,
A clairvoyant dream dreamed he.
He saw her sway by an unnamed rill,
And does kept her company.

No knowledge had Mrada of what he saw,
For he was just a man.
He kept the precious vision close,
As hoards a miser his coin.

And so no sister, mother, daughter,
Could warn him of his peril,
Unknowing that uncanny sight
With shackles bound his soul.

Ákařa danced in the Nameless Land,
And Mrada sought the path.
She was beauty, her movements grace:
He was torment and misery.

Eheu, the would-be selfish lover
Who knows not the maiden he pursues!
Woe to the man who never thinks
Of her desires, but only his own!

Mrada entered the Nameless Land,
And Ákařa saw before him.
His senses reeled with boundless joy.
He shouted a welcome cry!

No one dances in the Nameless Land,
No deer prances, no fish jumps.
No bird wings through unmoving air,
No leaf stirs, no river flows.

This is the rule of Epolidendum:
If ever a human sound is heard,
All motion will cease forevermore,
Unless the word be unspoken.

—San Diego, California 1966
and San Ysidro, California 12/24/2017