Poem by Mathilde Blind

Nirvana

Divest thyself, O Soul, of vain desire!
   Bid hope farewell, dismiss all coward fears;
   Take leave of empty laughter, emptier tears,
And quench, for ever quench, the wasting fire
Wherein this heart, as in a funeral pyre,
   Aye burns, yet is consumed not. Years on years
   Moaning with memories in thy maddened ears—
Let at thy word, like refluent waves, retire.

Enter thy soul's vast realm as Sovereign Lord,
And, like that angel with the flaming sword,
   Wave off life's clinging hands. Then chains will fall
From the poor slave of self's hard tyranny—
And Thou, a ripple rounded by the sea,
   In rapture lost be lapped within the All.

1. In a Kentish Rose Garden
2. The Red Sunsets, 1883 (The twilight heavens are flushed with gathering light)
3. Internal Firesides
4. The Music-Lesson
5. A Winter Landscape

Henry Bukowski Nirvana ("not much chance")

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