The Song Of Don Ramon

The Song Of Don Ramon

By D.H. Lawrence

What is God, we shall never know!

But the Sons of God come and go.

They come from beyond  the Morning Star;

And thither they return from the land of men.

Mary and Jesus have left you and gone to the place of renewal.

And Quetzalcoatl  has come. He is here.

He is your Lord.

Those that follow me, must cross the mountains of the sky,

And shall pass the houses of the stars by night.

They shall find me only in the Morning Star.

But those that will not follow, must not peep.

Peeping, they will lose their sight, and lingering, they will fall very

lame.

Chile & Argentina 260


6 responses to “The Song Of Don Ramon

  • oregoncoug

    What a great National Socialist D.H. Lawrence was and is. Sons of God — Sons of the Wolf!

  • delendaestziobot

    This poem I think he would have written when he was in New Mexico, or perhaps a little later when he was in Mussolini’s Italy. I have not read The Plumed Serpent, but it is now on my reading list.

  • delendaestziobot

    “We are creatures of pure consciousness, pure spirit, surveying those selves of clay who are so absurd or so tragic, below” – D.H. Lawrence

  • delendaestziobot

    “I am the son of the Morning Star, and child of the deeps.
    No man knows my Father, and I know him not.
    My Father is deep within the deeps, whence He sent me forth.
    He sends the eagle of silence down on wide wings
    To lean over my head and my neck and my breast
    And fill them strong with strength of wings…
    But I am Quetzalcoatl of the eagle, of the eagle and the snake.
    The earth and air.
    Of the Morning Star.
    I am Lord of the Two Ways.” – D.H. Lawrence

    • oregoncoug

      Read and weep, O ye mortal humans. Read and weep.

      • delendaestziobot

        Serrano wrote that D.H. Lawrence was a “Hitlerian poet”, and certainly he was a major influence on San Miguel. Also on Marshal MacLuan I might add, in the way Lawrence saw how language had usurped the senses, MacLuan would say “amputated the senses”. Orwell, of course, another.

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