FOURMEN
PROGRAMMEFORASYMPHONY
I FirstMovement
DonMcCullininCambodia II SecondMovement
EdwardMorganForsteratCambridge III ThirdMovement
IainCloughonAnnapurna IV FourthMovement CamiloTorresRestrepoofColombia
Bandages
swaithemyshatteredlegs
Thesheetiscoolonmychest
Everythingiswhitenow
Aredmemorypersists
Suddenly consciousnessbecamechaos shrapnelsounded inmylegs thepainflashedforaninstant andwentblack
Awhitesheethidesthedamage thatwasme
Iamanobject
Oneoftheunluckyones atlast
Theyarephotographingme asanitemofinterest tothecasualviewer aestheticallysatisfying inthecontrastofsurfaces
Thesmoothwhitenessofthesheets
Thetannedexpanseofchest patternedwithdarkhair
Thebottlesofblood theloopingrubbertubes alltheparaphernalia ofthefieldhospital
Thedulleyesheavywithtoomuchpain
Iamthevictim thatisall
Itwasinevitable
Acamerashutter clicksout themoments ofmylife andthistime Iaminfocus Tomorrow
Ishallbelivingagain ordeadagain whileothersubjectsmove tothecentre ofthepicture
Otherhandswilloperatetheshutter
Itdoesnotmatter Thesheetiscoolonmychest
Aloneagain nowtheyhavegone amIalive withnocamera tocapture theminutesof mylife
Onlymyeyesrevealed thepainIhadsuffered
Theeyes likethelens cannotlie
Ihavetriedtobehavewell tofulfillmyobligations
Thedangerofmyprofession alwayswithmeifnotinme resolveditselfintoanenigma
LikeConstable withhisnotebook Isketchedoutscenes inthenotebookofmycamera
Thelandscapesofbattle
Thenalone inthepositivedark Isoughttotransform thehorrorintobeauty
Crucifixionintoart
AstheRembrandt etchinganddrypoint achievesitslast transfiguredstate inthehighlightsandshadows ofthefinalpicture
Itriedtocapture theaestheticofviolentdeath
Ihavetravelledwithitforyears
Nowithasvisitedme briefly andwithdrawnagain
Itiswaiting atadistance bythefootofmybed justbeyondmyfieldofvision outoffocus
EachphotographItake willbringitbacktome clearandsharp
Ihaveseenitandrecognisedit
Oneday itwillcomeagain andclaimmeforitsown
PerhapsinsomeunknownMay Oreventomorrow
Buthavinglivedwithit forsolong nowithasvisitedme IknowIcanacceptit
Whatevermyeyesmayhaveshown mybodyhaslearnedtoaccept
Thecrystalplasma hangsaboveme feedingintomyarm thelifethatseepsout frommylegs
Thesheetsarestained coveringmywounds atmychest theyarecoolandwhite
Thepainwillneverstop
JesusJesus allthesufferingIhavewitnessed inmylifetimeofmoments allthepainandthedeath inthestillcalmnewspaperprints Icanrecorditall everyblindatrocity canneveralleviateanyofit NothingNothing
Therewasaday whenthesunshone whentheskywasblue thenawind carryingclouds ruffledtheempty grass-slope toadifferenttexture inthemoving shadowsatmyfeet layadrownedfledgling bonyandfragile itsfeathersstillwet withthenight’srain
Thepainwillstop whenIsleep
Inthesecoolwhitesheets oblivion takesonemoreprint frommynegative andfixesit
Thereddreamisover White bandages covermyeyes Sleep creepsoverme
Therealhorrorcanbegin
Acleanwhitesheet liesbeforemeonthedesk
Acleanwhitesheet
Icannotwrite
Theyvisitme theyoungofthreegenerations thosewhoadmireme usuallyadmireme forthewrongreasons buttheyvisitme andwetalk inthesoftCambridgetwilight
Whentheyaskme whyIneverwroteanothernovel Ianswerthemobliquely Itellthemtoreadtheessays thepoliticalessays andtheintroductions
Seeingtheimpossibilityofartisticdevelopment Ispeakoftheimportanceofachievement theirrelevanceofadvanceordecline
DoIknowtheanswermyself
Therewasamountainaheadofme amountainIcouldnotfindmywayover coulddiscernnopathwayaround discovernopassageacross
ThehopedforArcticSummerdidnotcome
Myheartsankinsilence
Whentheyleaveme Isitalone withtheemptysheetbeforeme andwatchthenight fillingthepage
Devilsareofthenorth andpoemscanbewrittenaboutthem
Novelscanbewrittenaboutthem
Itispeaceful inthissecularretreat
OccasionallyIcanevenforget
ThethingsforwhichIamadmired thethingsIhavesooftensaid theliberalidealsIhavepropounded areonlythethingsthatall civilisedmenmustfeel thereisnothingsingularaboutthem
Ihavesaidthem thatisall
Yettheyreveremeasan infinitelywiseoldman
Theydonotseethecul-de-sac Cambridge onadelightfullywarm afternoon
Thepageremainsempty
Ishouldnothavewrittenthatword Ishouldhaveknown whatMahlerknew shouldhaveunderstood whathisrescoring ofthesixthsymphony tellsme
Threeblowsoffatearetragic andmusiccanbewrittenaboutthem
Novelscanbewrittenaboutthem
Butwhatwasthereleft formetosay after boum
Seeingsomethingvaguely beyondtheechooftheancientearth
Iwasunabletosay exactlywhat
Couldnotfindmywaypastthatdeadsound the boum
aliveinthedarkCambridgenight the boum
stillwalkingthetownstreetsatmidday the boum inthequestionsinthestudents’eyes
Iwouldnotlie
IwroteofthedarknessthatIsaw
Yetnotbetrayingmyfriends didI betrayperhapsmyself didI betraytheechoofthe boum
reverberatingstill inthecavesofmyskull whereitcanneverescape
Notontoanypaper
DidIbetraythepaleyoungsonofMrs.Moore
Thecleanwhitesheet liesbeforemeonthedesk Night hasalmostcoveredit
Theunwrittencornerremains unwritten
Noflame entersmypen compellingittowrite lightingthepage
IhavedonealltheyIcoulddo goneasfarasIcouldgo
Icannotdomore
Mysoulisinthebalance
Mylifewasoflittleimportance soIhazardedmysoul
Ihaveputmysoulatrisk
Nowthedarkishere thenightisuponme
AndIshallknow
Climbingontomyfirstwall asachild
IknewthatIshoulddie somewherehighupinthemountains
Thisdistantgrave thislonelysortofpeace wasalreadythere invisibly intherocksIclamberedover Tripping grazingmyknees runningcrying hometomymother tobecomforted notknowing Ihadstumbledover myowngrave
Thewindsblowhighaboveme whistlingonthemountainsatnight singingtomysoulinawildhighlanguage
Carryindistinguishablewords fromtheflappingcottonprayer-flags ofthevillagesbelow thatmutterinthedarknessaroundme astheyjourneyon tothedistantpeaks andthestrangegodsoftheirdestination
Thesnowliesalwaysontheslope asoftwhitesheet thatwillneverbetrampledintomud
Thestonesarepiledonme Asinglecross Fewpeoplepass
Wreathsofblue mountainflowers wither inthesharpmorningair
This ishowIwantedit orrather howIalwaysknewthatitwouldbe lyinghereatpeace withthesoulsofthemountaindead highhigh farfromthemurmuringcrowd whoshiverincities huddledatthefootofeverycliff countingouttheminutesoftheirlives afraidoflandslide ofrockfalloravalanche
Afraidofevery ActofGod
Feardrovemetothemountains
Thefeartwistingtheirlife-sickfaces
Thefearinmymother’seyes asshecalledtometocomedown
Beggingmenottogoanyhigher Yorkshire becametooconstricting evenhighinthemountains tooneartheground
InScotland themostchallengingclimbs grewmellowerwiththeyears lesssatisfactory
Thefacesofthepeoplewereunhappyandtight
Onlyonthemountains lookingdownattheearth asfromOlympus’heights mankindappearedtobe softerandhappier lessafraid
Themenstridinggod-likebesideme seemedtoopenoutasweclimbed theirfacesgrewbroaderandclearer theireyesreflectedthesnowandthesky
Evenbackintheworld theireyesretainedsomeglance somerecognisabledistance aglacialfreedom
Ichosethisdeath whenIchosethislife Ichosethiswildsinginggrave
Thestreetsofthetownwereheavywithslush Itrampedinthemuddyfootprintsofothers followingthecharteredstreets squelchinginthedisfiguredsnow rememberingpurewhiteness
Theroadbecameapath andthenatrack andfinallydisappearedaltogether Theslopegrewsteeper
Foothills turnedslowlytomountains grassvanished amidbrokenstones patchesofsnowformedbetweentherocks
Whiteuntroddensnow thatwillneverbetrampledintomud
Theairbecamethinandsharp Somethingcalledtomefromabove
Istrainedmyneck lookingup tryingtosee
Climbinghandoverhand feelingcarefullyforeachsecurefoothold IthoughtofeverystepthatIhadtaken inmylifetimeofmountains howeachhadreallybeenthelastone yetsomehowthefirst
Iclosedmyeyes
Alltheblindingpeakswerethere rangedbeforeme theclimbed theunclimbed thenever-to-beclimbed Ihadconqueredthemall intheshuttingofaneyelid
Themurmuringbelowhadceased
Thewindwassinginginmyears
Thevoicefromabove calling hadbecomeclearer
ForthefirsttimeIcouldhear somethingIhadhalf-heardallmylife
Themountainitselfwastalkingtome
WhenIfell withtheavalanche Iwasonceagainalittleboy kneesgrazed whowouldpickhimselfup andruncrying hometohismother
Tobecomforted
Wheremybodylaybleeding doesnotmatter ifanepitaphwaswritten isoflittleimportance myburialplace immaterial
MybodyisoftheearthofSouthAmerica
Iamcarriedonthesilkofspiders mysoultravelslikeanundergroundstream toeverycorneroftheland
Allinjustice allevilandcorruption feelingitshakingbeneaththeirfeet willtremble knowingitmustspring fromthecracksintheearth likeafountaininthedesert
Therecanbenolookingback
Mylifewassimple uncomplicated mydeathinitself equallyso Together theyrumble likedistantthunder cannotbeforgotten onlyoccasionallyignored mustonedaybreak sweepingtheearthinaviolentstorm directlyoverhead
Thehouseofthesunhasbeenopened hugeblackbirds carryforththelight
Mylifeanddeath wereunexceptional manymenhavetravelled thesamepathbeforeme eachofuscanonly testifytothetruth
ThetruthofourGethsemane
TheDevilwhenhecame camewithnogreatmiracles whisperingofdeath inthedesertoftheself
Icouldturnnostonestobread couldnotsavemyself norruletheearthinglory
Butinmymomentofagony whenthewholeworldseemedasleep unabletokeepvigilbesideme Iprayedonlythatthecupmightpass
Hisprayermineatlast
Andacceptingitfreely rosefromtheground inthatfirstaction alreadycrucified
AsJesus achildinthetemple aboutHisFather’sbusiness wasalreadycrucified Afterwards itwaseasy theactofdying oncebegun movingintotalsurrender untiltheconsummatedgesture
Historycannotfalsifyanimage
Iwascrucifiedinthejungle likeGuevara withChristbesideme
EventheChurchitselftrembled
Thedeathofthebody asmallsacrifice manymenhaveoffered theirliveswithoutChrist withChristmyforfeit therewaslittlemerit
Mysoul
Ihadgrownusedtorisking inthehazards ofmyvocation When suddenly inthenight
alightshoneonmyface betweentheleavesoftheblowingbranches andIknew thatamancanonlylive riskingbodyandsoul both ineverymovement everygesture everymomentofhislife
Onlyinthiscanthedarknessbeaverted
Evenmymother crying seemedfaraway
Idiedforthefuture
Manymenhavedied fortheoldorder reconciledintheflesh
Itisjoyfultodie forthelifeoftheworld thatmustcome
Forthosepeoplewho tremblingonthebrink aregiventheGracetodrink bymydeath
Fortheunborngrandchildren
Iftheyfindmygrave insomefutureage theywillnotfindthedebris ofmymortalbody
MybodyIbequeathedtotheearth
Theywilldiscoveronly thecleanwhitesheet thathadbeenmyshroud soakedwiththebloodofmywounds stainedwiththeearthofmycountry
Ifawind billowsitintotheair letitbethemortalflag notofanyearthlynation butemblemofourcommonimmortality
Ifitisvenerated byaworld rejectingtheviolence ofitsown unspeakableconception rememberingthatallbirth involvesterrorandblood letitconciliate humanity initsseamless redandblackfolds
Ifitisfound RemembertheTombwasempty Andthatmylifewasnotlost