Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, LURID LIVES: RASPUTIN (TO HIS BAND OF COURT LADIES & OTHER SATELLITES), by CALE YOUNG RICE


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

LURID LIVES: RASPUTIN (TO HIS BAND OF COURT LADIES & OTHER SATELLITES), by                     Poet's Biography
First Line: Build an altar in my chamber
Last Line: With a holy pleasure.
Subject(s): God; Rasputin, Grigory (1872-1916); Religion; Russia; Theology; Soviet Union; Russians


Build an altar in my chamber,
Spread linen upon the floor,
Let two candles burn.
I am Russian, I am God,
I am God's czar on earth:
You shall be as I!

Build an altar! Bring food,
Bring foam of red champagne.
We shall feast, in a ring,
Chanting hymns around!
Then communing, cup to cup,
We shall rise like bubbles up,
Rise and float on air!
For by love's might, divine,
You'll be His, being mine,
You'll be His. Haste, then,
Let our joys twine!

For, remember this,
You, high and haughty,
I was a muzhik in the wilds,
I was a pilgrim on the roads,
I have sinned, wholly.
And to sinners alone come,
When they pray, spent and dumb,
Blissfullest salvation.
So to you, as to me,
There shall come the ecstasy
God bids me give you.
Body and soul I will fuse
In you. Then, when I choose,
I will kiss and save you!

Yes! I, a muzhik lowly,
I can do this thing.
Jesus Christ knew a manger.
I to filth am no stranger,
Long I fed as swine:
Till a day when men beheld
Might in me, and women enspelled
Led me to the throne --
Where the Czarina sat, palely,
Waiting for an heir.
And to her they cried
'A saint, of the Crucified,
Who transcends sin!
Bid the Czar hear him,
Though it be chagrin.
Bid the Czar hear him!' ...
An heir entered in!

Haste, then! in Christ's name!
I am Russia's holy flame,
I, the sin-transcender!
Ministers of state, or war,
Seek me out, near and far,
Kiss my hands, fawning.
For they know none may dare
Rise against my power.
Over the steppes, in their folly,
They should go, melancholy,
Eating wind and rain!
Over the snow they should go --
To Siberia's pain!
But to all who gather
In my holy band
There shall come bliss.
They shall dance up to God,
Glide to salvation.
They shall feel the thirst of sin,
Given first to Adam.
They shall eat the apple of Eve,
Then, when they win reprieve,
Joy, past all measure,
They shall know why I teach
Sinners alone to Heaven reach;
Yes, and why fools, who cry
I shall fail and fall, lie!
Haste, then; build our shrine,
With a holy pleasure.





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