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.
Remembering Friedrich Nietzsche (October 15, 1844–August 25, 1900)
Aleister Crowley & the Devil’s Picture Book
Remembering Aleister Crowley
(October 12, 1875–December 1, 1947)
Savitri Devi, Traditionalism, & Nature Religion
Remembering Roy Campbell (October 2, 1901–April 22, 1957)
Remembering Louis de Bonald:
October 2, 1754–November 23, 1840
Remembering Maurice Bardèche (October 1, 1907–July 30, 1998)
Announcing the New Savitri Devi Archive