"In Nomine Babalon et Vox Sanctae Meretricis"
Cry of the 2nd Aethyr,
Which is Called ARN1
Vittoria alla Madre.
..::A RHAPSODY TO OUR LADY::..
RAPSODIA A NOSTRA SIGNORA::..
FIORI DI WARATAH
The Birth of Babalon
What is the tumult among the stars
Why is the face of God turned grey
What is the beauty that flames so bright
Quail ye kings for an end is come
I have walked three dreadful nights away
I have lain my love and smashed my heart
The cities reel in the shout of steel
Now God has called for his judgement book
His bloody priests have clutched his robes
O popes and kings and the little gods
While trumpets sound and stars rejoice
BABALON is too beautiful
She has clothed her beauty in robes of sin
But now the darkness is riven through
Naked in radiant mortal flesh
She is come new born as a mortal maid
And death and hell are at her back,
Her voice is sure as the judgement trump
The gates shall fall and the irons break
Her mouth is red and her breasts are fair
And her whoredom is holy as virtue is foul
Ye shall laugh and love and follow her dance
From Tannhauser by A. Crowley
From Every women is a star
Yea I, the Beast, my Scarlet Whore bestriding me, naked
Man's torture chamber had tools inexhaustibly varied; at one end murder crude and direct to subtler, more callous, starvation; at the other moral agonies, from tearing her child from her breast to threatening her with a rival when her service had blasted her beauty.
Most masterful man, yet most cunning, was not thy supreme stratagem to band the woman's own sisters against her, to use their knowledge of her psychology and the cruelty of their jealousies to avenge thee on thy slave as thou thyself hadst neither wit nor spite to do?
And woman, weak in body, and starved in mind; woman, morally fettered by her heroic oath to save the race, no care of cost, helpless and hard, endured these things, endured from age to age. Hers was no loud spectacular sacrifice, no cross on a hill-top, with the world agaze, and monstrous miracles to echo the applause to heaven. She suffered and triumphed in most shameful silence; she had no friend, no follower, none to aid or approve. For thanks she had but maudlin flatteries, and knew what cruel-cold scorn the hearts of men scarce cared to hide.
She agonized, ridiculous and obscene; gave all her beauty and strength of maidenhood to suffer sickness, weakness, danger of death, choosing to live the life of a cow -- so mankind might sail the sea of time.
She knew that man wanted nothing of her but service of his base appetites; in his true manhood-life she had no part nor lot; and all her wage was his careless contempt.
She hath been trampled thus through all the ages, and she hath tamed them thus. Her silence was the token of her triumph.
But now the word of me the Beast is this; not only art thou woman, sworn to a purpose not thine own; thou art thyself a star, and in thyself a purpose to thyself. Not only mother of men art thou, or whore to men; serf to their need of life and love, not sharing in their light and liberty; nay, thou art mother and whore for thine own pleasure; the word I say to man I say to thee no less: Do what thou wilt shall be the whole of the Law!
The Vision and the Voice – by A.Crowley
The Gnostic Mass
Scroll the First
With the Monkey on the Rock
..::B A B A L O N::..
Do what thou wilt shall be the whole of the Law.
Rue not now guilt the Devil's dagger who draw!
I swear toward theWest
On BABALON'S bold breast.
I swear toward the South
on Her mad merry mouth.
I swear towards the East
On Her Cup fiery-fleeced.
I swear towards the North
On Her Disk savage-swarth.
I swear toward the Height
On Her five fingers' Spite.
I swear towards the Deep
On Her soul's smiling sleep.
I swear towards the Centre
By Her and Him that sent Her.
I swear this Oath
Sister, and Scarlet
I am Her Priest
To bring to birth
My word of awe,
Of Will, above
This tempered Oath
In Her chaste Cup
This poem is believed to be the opening poem in Crowley's "Book of Oaths".
SONG FOR BABALON
published in "Cincinnati Journal of Ceremonial Magick"
Volume I, Number 2, 1977
There stands a woman, all arrayed in light.
She is the shadowed mistress of the night,
She is the sun-clad mistress of the day
For all Freemen who stride their true Will's way.
The woman rises in the east ...
She is the scarlet rider of the Beast;
And in her hand a chalice now she holds,
A lotus-cup a-wrought of beaten gold.
BABALON! my Lady, girt with silver sword,
Whose name is given as a power-word ...
Behold thy lover, travelled from afar,
Impaled upon thy seven-pointed star.
And thou, like Magdalen beneath Christ's Rood,
Do capture in the chalice all his blood.
For not one drop's to be witheld from thee,
O BABALON! Whose dance will set men free,
Each as a Star, to love his fellow-man
And tread the hillside foot-paths of Lord Pan.
O BABALON! IO PAN! to Ye all hail!
Holy donors of the living Grail ...
O Beast! O Scarlet Woman, BABALON,
We will unite before this Aeon's gone.
As Children of the Sun, arrayed in light,
Like thee, my Lady, armored mirror-bright.
Upon our brows, Heru's crown glows and gleams,
The Silent Babe encircles all our dreams.
Of love and life and laughter, we take our fill
And live the Law of Love, Love under Will.