After the Avatar, 1945
A Sonnet for Savitri Devi on her 107th Birthday
Our holy sun shouldn’t shine anymore.
There is nothing left to grow beneath now.
All is gone, blasted, shot, burnt. All our pure
Beauty, our sure truths, lost. We endure. How
And why are beyond us, we simply live.
What else is there for us to do? We are
Not dead though all we love is dead. Forgive
Us for not rejoicing in the warm air,
For not embracing the light we once rose
To salute. It is too late for more dawns,
We do not care to see new days. Gallows
Dance before our eyes, while open graves yawn.
We half wish to hang and fall, to be done,
Buried . . . away from our traitorous sun.
Earth Day Special
A Robertson Roundup: Remembering Wilmot Robertson (April 16, 1915 – July 8, 2005)
Remembering Dominique Venner
(April 16, 1935 – May 21, 2013)
Remembering Jonathan Bowden (April 12, 1962–March 29, 2012)
Remembering Emil Cioran (April 8, 1911–June 20, 1995)
The Man of the Twentieth Century: Remembering Ernst Jünger (March 29, 1895–February 17, 1998)
The Power of Myth: Remembering Joseph Campbell (March 26, 1904–October 30, 1987)
Remembering Jean Raspail (July 5, 1925–June 13, 2020)