BROTHER GIAN by CALE YOUNG RICE

Dear Jesus Christ, I'm Brother Gian.
Within my cell I sit and scratch
From pagan parchments words writ on

Such vellum as not kings can match:
Words, Greek and Latin -- all profane.
Three Homers I have quite erased,
And look to see their lines replaced
By lives of Saints without a stain.

This Virgil now: I'll do it next.
Last night it tempted me to peep
A moment at its wicked text,
Telling of nymphs ... I could not sleep
Dear Jesus Christ, I dreamt I was
A faun within a Bacchic rout,
And one white creature chose me out:
I broke with kisses all Thy laws.

Here is the place ... I danced as wild
As any bacchant of them all,
With ivy-woven tresses whiled
Mad hours that maddened at her call.
She led me far into the wood
Where not a Pan or Satyr leapt.
Dear Jesus Christ, 'twas Satan swept
Me on -- I scarcely understood.

Here is the place. ... For in my dream
Each letter trembled and became
A nymph: the parchment was a stream
Of shapes that glimmered without shame.
I danced and followed where she fled
With lips wine-glad bent back to shout.
Dear Jesus Christ, beyond a doubt
She rose where 'Venus' here I read.

So first of all I raze its shame!
And pray that in its place may stand
Some letter of the Virgin's name
Writ by a pure and holy hand,
And set about with red and gold
And lilies -- where my eyes still see
But glimmering limbs that tempt and flee,
But shimmering arms that would enfold.

Dead Jesus Christ, this I confess,
And fasting will I toil until
The vellum, white as holiness,
Shall be fit for an angel's quill!
An angel like the nymph with eyes
And body that... Dear Jesus Christ,
To woman was man sacrificed!
From Eve his sins forever rise!

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