O mystic, delicate chalice of the world,
Jeweled with pallid moons! Exquisite arch
Of the quiet sky; carven ’twixt dusk and dusk
Of smoky Indian jade, a summer night,
By God the Artist, God the deaf and blind,
Who fashions masterpiece on masterpiece,
And through the Window of the Universe
Hurls them forever and forever …
Pale cup, wherein all tears and mirth of men
Distil, that men may drink of thee and live …
Thrice-precious Grail, that holds the Wine of Earth!
- John Reed
Note: To the best of my knowledge the John Reed who
wrote this poem is the John Reed who was a devoted communist in the early days
of the Russian revolution. He was the subject of the Warren Beatty 1981 movie Reds and is one of only three Americans
to be buried in the Kremlin. I completely disavow any kinship with the man’s
insane devotion to an insane ideology. But I do indeed like the poem, like the
holy references, and find it odd and disconcerting that it came from the pen of
a man who supported future butchers like Lenin and Stalin.
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