Into the bright and bubbling cup!
“Still thou art holy to me, as the Power of Earth
Which took thee away, lovely assassin!...
And I would have followed the hero to the depths,
Had Love not held me.”
This poem betrays the secret longing for the maternal depths.[[795]]
He would like to be sacrificed in the chalice, dissolved in wine like pearls (the “crater” of rebirth), yet love holds him within the light of day. The libido still has an object, for the sake of which life is worth living. But were this object abandoned, then the libido would sink into the realm of the subterranean, the mother, who brings forth again:
Obituary.
(Unfinished poem.)
“Daily I go a different path.