shifted, and knows not.
“And the dreams of the feet and the toes touch the core of the world, where the Serpent sleeps.
“And the dream of the phallos reaches the great I Know Not.
“And the dream of the body is the stillness of a flower in the dark.
“And the dream of the soul is gone in the perfume of Now.
“And the dream of the spirit lapses, and lays down its head, and is still with the Morning Star.
“For each dream starts out of Now, and is accomplished in Now.
“In the core of the flower, the glimmering, wakeless Snake.
“And what falls away is a dream, and what accrues is a dream. There is always and only Now, Now and I Am.”
There was silence in the circle of men. Outside, the sound of the bullock-wagon could be heard, and from the lake, the faint knocking of oars. But the seven men sat with their heads bent, in the semi-trance, listening inwardly.
Then the drum began softly to beat, as if of itself. And a man began to sing, in a small voice:
“Listen!” said Ramón, in the stillness. “We will be masters among men, and lords among men. But lords of men, and masters of men we will not be. Listen! We are lords of the night. Lords of the day and night. Sons of the Morning Star, sons of the Evening Star. Men of the Morning and the Evening Star.
“We are not lords of men: how can men make us lords? Nor are we masters of men, for men are not worth it.