喜べ人よ、汝は永遠に孤独である！（更新2.0） Rejoice Man, thou shalt forever be alone! (Updated 2.0）

Rejoice, Man! Thou shalt forever be alone!
Blissful! Blissful! Joyful beyond this Earth!
Where is your beloved Sun gone to now?
Where is thy beloved light of the day? See!
The dews or morning and the murmuring rivers dried
The green grass turned grey and withered in white.
See!
The does and fawns of the land and doves of the sky
— -in some obscure corners of that vast expanse hid away,
or were they eaten by starving beasts or perished in the biting cold?
See!
The fishes turned up with their white belies
quivering in the dampened and misted riverbed.
The river goes to the ocean no more. The ocean is dried.
See!
The stars spun out of the divine plan, the stars
danced madly and was tossed or thrown, by
their lovers’ gravity who now shameful of each other’s charism.
See!
Rosy and blue aetherial winds blown over the dark heavens,
Winds of transformation and mutation — -soon the Earth
Shall full of mutant beasts that cry for their self-earned solitude.
See!
The moon! The Sun! They were no longer apart!
Seventeen red stars aligned as if a shooting arrow,
The red moon and the blue sun were their target of doom.
See thus!
The coming dusk of the alternating red and blue,
twilight for all human idols, made or affected for
the secret yearnings from their chests — hearts a-splendid
all pierced and wrecked by the inhuman beams of the
eerily shining red twilight Moon,
Over the waning blue Sun.
The dusk descends and portends the coming night.
See finally!
The Man shall be forevermore doomed alone and lonely in this Earth,
and even beyond it — -the infinite long stretches of the black cosmic sea —
When the Earth was shattered into scattered rocks — -into voidspace.
The ghost of Man lingers in its place — -steady, motionless, eternal!
Unmoving and unmoved in that empty space devoid of meanings for eternity! Black desecrement! Woe betides the eternity that does not move!
See not then.
But I shall move, I shall fly — -even in the coming twilight or black doom — -
In the more Stygian cosmic sea, with its aetherial waves shattering and diminishing to and fro —
An impetus — another drifting ghost but alive and free — -my thoughts — -
All my thoughts had grow wings,
— -broken, bloody wings — -I have wrought
from fiery aether that defy me — -my passion and compassion now
for the carnal, joyous things — that once denied me — my spirit
had cloven the chain and the rock that once fettered me — to mountains
Fire-stealer unbound! Tremble before me, cowardly God and Universe!
and my mind — turned itself through and against times and time of all times — once was golden, then brown with some silver hair,
now moodily dark and malignant like a dead ogre judge and psychopomp!
Judgement — -doom be yours, Men, Beasts, Tokens, Time, Universe!
(they are one and the same)
I shall sentence all of the Eternity to hell! Doomsayer, soothsayer be I.
My mind is violent and gruesome-sorrowful — moody now
as the wine-drunken ocean — — a thousand and a million
oceans inexhaustible all exhausted in my cup! These are Tears!
I drank it! What is more blissful than living as ageless gods,
But live as a mortal — and in time damning all that are divine to death!
The sword is mine- by this sword I conquer — -the dark sign.
-I shall never die.
While the immortal gods in their temples,
In gilded, marbled, faded shades and hues — -rotten flesh clad in dead panoply and cold celibate tombs
with sand and mud as their tears as they all perish and all cry.
Man! Thou shalt be joyful! Weep not, for thou art alone!
Know that thou shalt never find they Equal, not gods.
None dares to erect a temple for you, my brother!
Thou art alone! This is thy desert, sweet, but not anymore!
The Sun is set! The light effulgent — -effusive of life’s pageantries
Of diffusive forms and struggles — — all dies! Cry then now, in joy!
All man has made will to die! All men WILL-TO-DIE!
Conquer therefore, justly in death, nay!
Beyond one death and thousand deaths more — night and nights
Thou shalt die and die twice evenso, Thou art the Man — -
No more! The Man is dead! Applause!
The Idea of a man is dead, I applaud!
To my decree, I am Dionysus,
Thrice Great, Thrice Wise,
Omnidoloris, All-Sorrowful — — all maddening and hewing!
Know that I am righteously mad! Mad and madder
Than that madder crimson mad broken moon
that still hangs! in stillness hangs!
Moon hanging broken like the broken knitted brows, tormented
the brows of her most mournful — plaintive face — -in tears
her fluid and fearful countenance — — into even solid, from the shades of flesh
into marbled gold….
thus justly commensurate too with sand I have —
traded the splendent city of divine Apollon.
With equal weight in sombre and grey sandy graves — -as much as in the grave the sand weighs
I traded gold with sand. The mute and dead with the lively toasted golden and autumnal brown — — when the Sun
was high and the rain did not fall. Man,
How merciless was the happiness without tears!
I’d rather have had my stomach with both an ulcer and in a squall,
Running torrentially from both above and below!
Truly mysteries of the universe — It came from above and out from below, but sometimes it came out from up and low both at the same Time.
Weir’d t’is! How? Why?
How could a man ruminate while his posterior(ity) is running?
How could a man die while he is shedding tears?
Das ist keine gute Geschichte. Das ist nicht meine Geschichte.
But tears, crystal dark tears. Wouldn’t you rather want some clear brooks and rills,
From thy blue eyes — -such inane glance…boyish..
Run thus sad fountains of mine. Cry thyself out in pain!
Came hither from some turbulent
snow-foaming wine-drunk ocean,
Isn’t it better to drink that black sea-tears,
than some yellow, grain-fouled estuary,
to some more cloudy and stagnant brine,
Prithee be not the Yantze River that flows,
Through muddy paddies and flour-mills,
Pestilential and joyless, hurrying
the joyous blind fishes from their home, once happy sky-cavern,
filled with water leaked from thawing and unthawed snow,
that came from the peak of most majestically overbearing, virgin Bogdqatun*3 (the oriental side of the Mout Cynthus)
— — hills of the divine administratrix, whom once
crowned in silvery winter and wise old age, cold — -and in old age carried
By that gloomy and yellow river far away — — white blind fishes far away
From home and to travel, after travails — — heading for its abhorred doom
in some unholy ablutions of wonder-bare spiritless union
With the South of Cathay.
With the South of Cathay.
Rejoice then! I am god came with black skin,
A tirelessly speaking eidolon made of eternal silent sand,
In blinding golden turbans and flowing yellow silky thobe was clad,
Clasped with black-mudded doom-white izaar — — fast karma-band (wheel-like kamarband)
In my hand carrying viciously long-handled dark whips
— — -a scaly, braided or knotted lash
that curl and coil like a venomous snake — -that bites!
T’is my sigil — -my sword!
By one lash through my might — — I summon the doomed yellow storm —
blown debauched and joyous, gnashing, mingling and maiming — -
the always moving and shifting ecstasy of the granular waste-earth
that wills to swallow all the wanton and tearless oceans dry — — their inmost depths shall run, be devoid of any water now
hence stained therewith ruddily gore and thus darkly glorious — -A whip
of three ash-burnt yak or three pest-black horse tails
paid its due in crimson blood. (lively and expensive, O fresh life!)
Will then chant the most abominable — most profane and guilty
blackest — -all the evils in the world — — hark to my voice and
be bad for yourself no more!
Sacrament of the desecrement — -Slaves shall revolt. And their blood shall spill
Light or grave like the rain in May, drizzling
feverish and frolicsome upon the cold hard grains
Of this greenless desert
all the evils — -be evil and evil million times more! Ye shall all one day be cherished as good.

My voice is the dying heat of the desert. It dries up all tears! Affright thee not, Man!
There is nothing more joyful than the blue-dreaming moths
flapping,
shedding away its broken jade scales
and the gold, melting eyes flowing from its sockets upon its wings
Returning through the flaming aether and reborn as eternal
black death-bird back to the dark and setting Sun.
“When the Sun is set, Man thirsts no more!” *1
Blessed thou art! Truth and beauty are thine, dead.
Alone, alone, alone, thirsty, waiting in this desert (for thy desert).
Cold, cold desert, cold desert (thy due), away from busy and bustling cities aeons-old and long-bygone.
from your most wonted, wanted, and longed for things for time
immemorial
of colors, of shapes, of touching and holding another’s hand — of balmy Food.
Always hungry, hungry for that warm and filling morsel of white grains for Food.
And with honey or salt mix’t, that earnest and motherly
white milk.
Turn all my tears to white! I shall spew! From up or low I throw — thus I AM tumultuously ye-spewen (gespien)!
Cover my bed in my white tears — — white stains blossom like flowers! Like writhing worms, wise-worms, flowering-worms!
Turning, changing, overthrowing, all-powerful “Conqueror the Worms” *2
that might have just bloomed flourishingly on my bed. Within my flesh they had crawled, I was going to get old! So old I might just die!
Here I lay now, I die, am dying and soon to be dead.
Death-bound. All living things.
I will sleep but not weep. I will be dead in my bed in good health.
Dead and silent. Breathe not ye those rosy breathes anymore.
Once was quite dead and not quite eternal, now fully dead but no longer eternal, soon the unmoving eternity itself denies both itself and its own obstinate death — -emotions though shall live and triumph over the Word and its own weakness in blackness’s trial
Man, three times has he lived, three times has he foolishly died, three times

weeping for the lone pathetic.

Times!

Three times eternal and unchanging things, now lie dead;

threefold eternal and destined things, turned sour and sad;

three-in-one eternal and immobile things, made himself outright mad;

the fourth eternity — — sane and sober is called Man.

Wise and impassionate, beyond all means, over and above dark heavens, fly Man fly.

As a blind blue-eyed moth, or perchance transfigured,
as a tougher and stronger black fly green-eyed, departing upon delicate wings not for the passing tepid blue Sun
— -cooling down
but for the eternal, green and broken

Moon! forever lunatic and inhospitably
enamored — -desirous — -wishing itself then upon a falling twilight star.
Cold and sorrowful — — all her bitter pains are all my secret sweet joys.

Oi! — — Io!

In every one of her tender joys will be all my doomed pain!

(therefore)

Quoth “I”:

I am Dionysus,
Dionysus Tresmegastus
Omnidoloris — -the mad one-destroyer and all-creator
Eternal lover of Pfpantagaea Phantasie. This is my poem
I wrote dedicated to her while I was drunk — -I have said my piece.

D.T.O

(This song, to some far distant infinity beyond Man’s doom had departed flying,
But to some far distant bygone era unbeknownst some idiotic and clueless good poets of Man would be found.
The moth or fly departing for moon in the infinitely distant and unknown future,
Would through his eternal journey have one day arrived home in the infinitely distant past forgotten by all the aeons.)

• *1 from Dionysian Dithyrambs — Wikipedia

• *2 The Conqueror Worm — Wikipedia

• *3 the reverse and counterpart of Bogd Khan Mountain — Wikipedia that (does not yet) exists on the Moon. In Japanese it would be translated as the hill of Kamime no Kimi 神女の君の丘.