The Rose and the Cross

Out of the seething cauldron of my woes, 

Where sweets and salt and bitterness I flung; 

Where charmed music gathered from my tongue, 

And where I chained strange archipelagoes 

Of fallen stars; where fiery passion flows 

A curious bitumen; where among 

The glowing medley moved the tune unsung 

Of perfect love: thence grew the Mystic Rose. 

Its myriad petals of divided light; 

Its leaves of the most radiant emerald; 

Its heart of fire like rubies. At the sight 

I lifted up my heart to God and called: 

How shall I pluck this dream of my desire? 

And lo! there shaped itself the Cross of Fire!

 Aleister Crowley 

Posted in: βιβλιοθήκη, εσωτερισμός, Κοσμολογία

Reactions: