Share via Share via... Twitter Facebook Pinterest WhatsAppRecent ChangesSend via e-MailPrintPermalink × Table of Contents a b g d h v z x t i k l m n e O p c q r w u Abjad-I-Al’ain a A Labyrinth do I the Paraclete Eidolize in the House of gnathous Rock Starry with scent of dittany of Crete, Erotic with the love-chants of a cock Crowing of her whose gnostic lips are wan, Leylah conceiving by the Lycian! b Black is the midnight when that wintry bird Stands on the snowbank like an ermine tail Blotting the royal robes: he cries a word That gilds the red blood in the blessed Grail; Wherefore the beetle ramps upon the Hill, And argent angels trumpet sour and shrill. g Jinn gnash their wings and lurk upon the West: Like camels they abandon life for love, Sucking green poison from a dugless breast. Such is the echo in these towers, above The incandescent sea that rolls about The soul of God, its ravelin and redoubt. d Drear and devout the dead monks moan and rave Within these cells of this my labyrinth: They couple with the ghuls upon my grave, And on my monument's marmoreal plinth They rage in amorous rituals unto Pan, Whose leer breeds Thersites and Caliban. h Hour after hour one toils about the maze: Two are embayed in bowers of moss and rose: Three quarrel for the clue their spites erase: Four squat like sun-kissed archipelagoes: Five make an holy Nun (as none who counts) And track Dione to her lustral founts. v Woe to the world! the bull and girl conjoin. The monster guards the grot: the sly goat grins When priest and prelate privately purloin The perfume of our quintessential sins. Woe! when that pizzle, ripe for Hathor's Cow, Writes the red blush on Pasiphae's brow! z Zazel, the saturnine, the brooding fiend, Listens and laughs at this ecstatic “woe!” His desart teats from twisted terrors weaned The ghost of Chasmodai: our vials flow With galangal and marjoram and myrrh, As Rhodope rapes life from Lucifer. x Chryselephantine cross! how good you gleam! How gods and goats respire the dark perfume Of oliban, and scent the erotic steam Of myrtle in the cypress groves of gloom That rolls and gathers into shapes of bronze Who dream strange dreams and chant strange orisons. t Temple and Thora, Taro and Throa! These are the goals and gates whereto ye tend, O ribbed red barrows, whose virilia Earn muliebria at the smooth sad end. Alas! ye have not learned with God and me To say your father's name A-dun-a-i! i Ieheshwah hath the tooth between the nail And window in his word: therein is joy. But whoso dons the gilded coat of mail Takes from Damascus dame, and leaves the boy To wander as he will with whips and sighs, And vain hibiscus cloistered in his thighs. k Kabus the nightmare makes me mad for kus When kun and kir are all the k's I can: I grow Ex Epicuri grege sus: I shave with steel these hairy marks of man: Then Sappho swoops her sweetest on the goal Of scorching blood, and swallows up my soul. l Lola be mine, and Lola rave astrain Who findeth in my labyrinth a pool To give her ganja-gramarye in grain:- The boy is blind, but beautiful, O fool! He cannot see the scars of thy disease Lydia and Lalage divide his fees. m Myrrh be thy music, harping thy perfume, When thou canst sit upon the foursquare stone Shaped like an egg, well hid within the tomb Where Jesus drawls: “Consult that cruel crone Who mutters mantrams to her swart tom-cat, And trims her broomstick toward Ararat!” n Nina, the navrant enervating nun, Anoint thee with the lewd laborious oil She gathered of the sow-sweat in the sun And quintessentialized with tearing toil! Let her anoint thee! thou shalt stand as stiff As unicorn confronting hippogriff. e So fly above the hedges that confound Thy clue-shorn chase: is Lampsacus afire With sunset on its marble walls, enwound As an hog's heart in the cobalt desire? Is there a Tuscan holding to thine eyes A tusky marvel to affright the skies? O Arab and I admit its gusty fear. We nurse the world in our expanded wombs. With ambergris and cedar-oil we rear Colossal children stolen out of tombs. We hide them in our bowels, sooth to say, To show them to the Lord on Judgment Day. p Priapus laughs, and we behold him Pan; Then if I smile, in me Panthea glows; I am a panther, mark the caravan, Devour a child, and plant a royal rose. Then to my rose if Pan is his own Pandar My horn is worth the two of Alexander. c Tzedeq of God that winged magnificence Is called by sylphs. It pours the pregnant pearls Even on the thuribles of gilt incense That smoke within the garlands of its girls. So from mere myrrh mirific murders come, And holy bane from plain olibanum. q Qaiyum thine anguish, with the thorny crown Lashing thy brow, the jackal's direful din Breaking thy body! Could not eiderdown Serve thee? His kisses cool thee? Is not sin The royal road to sainthood, eremite Whose purple pestle shuns the Dog's delight? r Rays of Aldeboran invade the coil Of this my labyrinth and point the way. Lick Nine for the consecrated oil! Scrape Jesus for the sacramental clay! See how the fumes of Voodoo curl around Thy Wanga-circle, the enchanted ground. w Shaitan appears. But gloomier clouds of smoke Than hell's are here, where wand and spell combine The utmost spawn of chaos to invoke As gods within the most supernal shrine. I am the master. Will not God contest The last grim struggle for his Alkahest? u Tangri suffices me, and I am He, The bournless spirit with the sighted feet. Twain pearls and seventy shimmer upon me: My food is myrrh and dittany of Crete. Dolphin and Phoenix round the Maypole tree Dance to the wedding march of El Lutiy. Explicit Abjad-i-Al'ain Previous | Index | Next Thelema If you have found this material useful or enlightening, you may also be interested in Thelema Liber Legis, The Book of the Law Ordo Templi Orientis A∴A∴ Trademark Ordo Templi Orientis, O.T.O., and the O.T.O. Lamen design are registered trademarks of Ordo Templi Orientis. Copyright All copyrights on Aleister Crowley material are held by Ordo Templi Orientis. 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