Part 1
DAY DREAMS
DAY DREAMS
RUDOLPH VALENTINO
(TO M.)
_The serenade of a thousand years ago_ _The song of a hushed lip_ _Lives forever in the glass of today_ _Wherein we see the reflection of it_ _If we but brush away_ _The cobwebs of a doubting faith._
_Published by_ MACFADDEN PUBLICATIONS, INC. NEW YORK
1923
COPYRIGHT, 1923 BY RUDOLPH VALENTINO
Printed in U. S. A.
To J. C. N. G. MY FRIENDS HERE AND THERE
INTRODUCTION
I can not tell a rondelay In words of yesterday I can not tell a couplet For words come as they may. I’ll do my best--I’ll try a bit Of ultra-modern rhyme And cast aside the shackles Binding “Once upon a time.”
PREFACE
To you, my gentle reader, I wish to say a foreword of warning before you peruse the contents of this book. I am not a poet nor a scholar, therefore you shall find neither poems nor prose. Just dreams--_Day Dreams_--a bit of romance, a bit of sentimentalism, a bit of philosophy, not studied, but acquired by constant observation of that greatest of masters!... _Nature!_
While lying idle, not through choice, but because forcibly kept from my preferred and actual field of activity, I took to dreams to forget the tediousness of worldly strife and the boredom of jurisprudence’s pedantic etiquette.
Happy indeed I shall be if my _Day Dreams_ will bring you as much enjoyment in the reading as they brought to me in the writing.
_Rudolph Valentino_
_New York--May 29th, 1923._
CONTENTS
PAGE
THE GIFT BOOK 1
NATURE 3
THE LOVE CHILD 5
HEART FLOWER 9
YOU 11
DAY DREAMS 15
SUSPICION 17
THE SAGE 19
MORPHIA 21
DOMINO 23
THE SPHINX 25
STRADIVARIUS 27
EXTRAVAGANZA 29
MIRAGE 31
GLORIFICATION 33
REMEMBRANCE 35
THREE GENERATIONS OF KISSES 37
A BABY’S SKIN 39
GRATITUDE 41
SHADOWS 43
ACCUSATION 45
EVEN SONG 47
GYPSIES 49
THE CARRIER 53
THE SCHOOL OF LIFE 55
THE WANTON 57
SLAVERY 59
WITHIN A WALL 61
THE CHALICE 63
SOLICITUDE 65
YOU 67
AT SUNRISE TOMORROW 69
POVERTY 71
CREMATION 73
THE LUTE 77
POWERLESS 79
CAP AND BELLS 83
PATCHWORK QUILT 85
TO A. M. 87
THE PHILOSOPHY OF A PESSIMIST 89
GEMS OF THOUGHT 91
TO C. F. 93
SYMPATHY 95
LABOR 99
WEALTH 101
UNDERSTANDING 103
HUNGER 105
MONEY 107
THE CHOICE 109
ITALY 111
ERIN 113
BEES 115
TO M. T. 117
IMPERIALISM 119
RADIO 121
THE KALEIDOSCOPE OF LOVE 123
MEMORIAL 125
DUST TO DUST 127
LULLABY TREE 129
ADAGE 131
FAITHFULNESS 133
REFLECTIONS AT RANDOM 135
COOPERATION 143
DAY DREAMS
THE GIFT BOOK
(To J. R.)
A book is a kindly gracious thing. Each has a particular gift to bring.
It may be the wealth Of a wonderful life, Or the thrilling adventure Of Jungle strife. Perhaps it’s a present Of orient gold, Tales of Aladdin Enchantingly told. Maybe a view Of olden days, Knighthood--Romance, Flowery ways. And again a journey To lands afar, Where strange things happen, And wonders are.
All of them--Gift books But plainly I see, Not one of them holds The gift for me. I want a book That will lazily roam Down the dear Pathway To Folks back home.
NATURE
Nature is the open book Wherein the truths of the world are found Nature is an endless story Of never changing glory When you study nature your teacher is God So always let your reference be This Greatest of Masters.
THE LOVE CHILD
(To B.)
Don Juan roamed the summer sky A shady cloud of gray But this dull attire Hid a heart of fire In quest of romance stray.
Vision
A lovely golden sunbeam Shining from above Came radiant by And caught the eye Of this vagabond of love.
Delusion
In wild tempestuous wooing He kissed her heart away All in a jest It was the quest Of the cloud on a summer’s day.
Conclusion
Through tears the sunbeam glimmered Then happily she smiled The tempest passed Alone at last With a little rainbow child.
Dawn runs in a crimson streak Across a leaden sky-- Just like a pulsing vein of life An artery of love not strife And it livens the heavens high.
So in our sky today it seems, No sign of life we see. Do we not know, Night’s bound to go, Dawn follows instantly.
If it were not for the showers, where would the rainbows be?
HEART FLOWER
O lovely rose Within whose chalice lies The heart of my true love, Did not the gods in benediction stoop To bless thee from above? And place within thy roseate lips The rubies counterpart. I found it there A jewel rare The flower of thy heart.
YOU
Your Eyes
Your Eyes, Mystic pools Of beauteous light. Golden brown In color Deep, Yet, amber clear. Unshadowed By a frown, Fathomless, Wherein My senses Drown. Your Eyes.
Your Lips
Your Lips, Twin silken petals Of a dewy rose. Altar Of the heart Where love Kindling desire Worships unafraid. Crucible Of Passion. The rose in masquerade. Your Lips.
Your Kiss
Your Kiss, A flame Of Passion’s fire The sensitive Seal Of Love In the desire, The fragrance Of your Caress; Alas, At times I find Exquisite bitterness In Your Kiss.
DAY DREAMS
(To The Friend)
_Yesterday_--in contemplation We dreamed of love to be, And in the dreaming, Wove a tapestry of Love.
_Today_--We dream our dream awake; Realization, Coloring our Romance With all the glory Of a flaming Rose.
_Tomorrow_--What awakening lies before us: Our tapestry In shreds perchance, Or mellowed--glorified By love’s reflection? I wonder--
SUSPICION
There crossed the path Of my dream of you A gossamer web of gray, So soft its sheen, Almost unseen, But it stopped me On my way.
Like a cold, gray granite battlement It walled me all about, For a cruel steel, Was in the feel Of the silken web of doubt.
THE SAGE
(To M.)
O Gladness shining bravely From out the eyes of youth, Be strong in your belief of good, Of valor and of truth. For soon enough, Too soon enough-- The gladdest light meets doubt, Then flickers, flutters, just a bit, But, doesn’t quite go out.
O Sadness peering divinely From out the eyes of age, Be strong in your belief of good. To youth--still be the sage. For soon enough, Too soon enough, The saddest light in doubt, Flickers, flutters, flickers, And finally goes out.
MORPHIA
I am The Ingrate Morphia, You hold the brimming cup of your Life To me, athirst am I, And drink my fill Of strength, until The cup is drained dry.
Then, satisfied, I care no more. The cup, I cast away, Crunch ’neath my heel. Its doom I seal, As I walk on my way.
DOMINO
Passion’s cloak, An ashy thing to wear, Covering the shroud of love That once was fair.
What gruesome imagery Does this convey to me. Grim death--itself no ghastlier a thing than this Could ever be.
THE SPHINX
(To B. H.)
O Sphinx--a monument to man! Built by his hands of clay, You symbolize the power of might Used in an earthy way. Yesteryear, you stood for man’s symbolic strength sublime, Today, you all but buried are Beneath the sands of time.
O Wondrous mountain--living Sphinx! Built by the hand of God, You symbolize the power of Love Used with the lowly sod. Yesteryear, a symbol of divinity sublime, Today, you lift your rugged head Untouched by hands of time.
O Sphinx--a monument to man! Built by his hand of clay, You symbolize the power of might Used in an earthy way. Yesterday, you in grandeur stood alone. Today, you’re mingling with the sand A rotting mass of stone.
O Wondrous mountain--living Sphinx! Built by the hand of God, You symbolize the power of Love Used with the lowly sod, E’er yesterday, you stood a monument of Love, Today unchanged, your glorious face, In worship turned above.
STRADIVARIUS
(To Jascha Heifetz)
If power were only given me, To paint the tone picture that arises from the soul Of that sanctuary of sound--your violin, Where would I find pigment worthy of such a use, Save in the fleeting splendour of some sky. Where a brush--save in a snowy feather From the shining wing of an archangel. Where the canvas--save across the dream memory of one who heard And was blessed by the hearing.
EXTRAVAGANZA
Extravaganza! The very word is vulgar. Still vulgarity is necessary to development, for even a weed growing in a swamp can sometimes be cultivated into a hot house plant. Take an orchid not under its own surroundings, but dress it by putting it in a proper receptacle, and what a difference! But, outside of beauty what have you? If we could only combine the beauty of an orchid with the soul of a weed we would get an improvement in the orchid, for real weeds are grateful enough to spring up between cobblestones, even to be trampled upon.
Rather be a blade of grass that knows the heart beats of Mother Earth, than the potted plant which is pampered and only restored to a semblance of life.
MIRAGE
Happiness--you wait for us Just beyond, Just beyond.
We know not where, Nor how we shall find you. We only know you are Waiting, waiting, Just beyond.
GLORIFICATION
(To W. W.)
The arms of the earth broke through the sod And clenched his fist in derision, For clay knows not the might of God, It has but earthy vision.
The finger of God wrote in the sky A sign of mighty fire: “Reach up to me for I am Life” But earth could reach no higher.
With strength of muscle, with might and main, Earth struggled and then defied, But God stretched forth His hand of Love And Earth was glorified.
REMEMBRANCE
(To M. O.)
An infant memory, A tiny fragile thing, Called into being By the brush of a colored wing Across the canvas Of my tired mind. It grows, A lovely picture of the past I find, You! Grown to fullest stature Of the perfect soul, The tiny sheltered memory Has reached at last Its goal.
THREE GENERATIONS OF KISSES
(To M. K.)
A Mother’s kisses Are blessed with love Straight from the heart Of Heaven above. Love’s Benediction, Her dear caress, The sum of all our happiness.
Till we kiss the lips Of the mate of our soul We never know Love Has reached its goal. Caress divine, You reign until A baby’s kiss seems sweeter still.
That beloved blossom A baby’s face Seems to be Love’s resting place. And a million kisses Tenderly Linger there in ecstacy.
Were I told to select Just one kiss a day; Oh! What a puzzle I would say. Still a baby’s kiss I’d choose, you see, For in that wise choice I’d gain ALL Three.
A BABY’S SKIN
Texture of a butterfly’s wing, Colored like a dawned rose, Whose perfume is the breath of God. Such is the web wherein is held The treasure of the treasure chest The priceless gift--the Child of Love.
GRATITUDE
(To A. T.)
The oleander blooms for me, In dawning splendrous beauty, I planted it so tenderly, And love has done its duty.
All in a garden of the earth, All in a plot of ground, Wherein I found no bit of worth, The seed I planted in the ground.
O Tiny seed almost unworthy To be cherished for thy looks, But deep within the heart of you Was wisdom never found in books.
You are the spirit of the good, The joy, the beauty of all things, You are the melody of life--the song That Mother Nature sings.
And so to that sweet lullaby You, in your perfumed cradle, rest Safe in the arms of Mother Earth, Held closely to her loving breast.
Until one happy wondrous day When love so tenderly drew nigh, Lifted your tiny hand of green And turned your face toward the sky.
The oleander blooms for me, In dawning splendrous beauty, I planted it so tenderly And love has done its duty.
SHADOWS
Shadows--gray symbol of a broken faith. We cling to hope--in hope we find The symbol of a broken heart. Shadows--gray bleak gossamer web Of what once was woven ’round my heart. We slink within thy domain--the land of shadows. For still we hope. But knowing always, that a broken faith can never be restored To more than it was--a Shadow.
ACCUSATION
Out of a shadowed corner Comes a phantom of the past, To confuse me And accuse me For a vain iconoclast. To chide me And deride me In a seething scornful blast. To cheat me And defeat me, Conscience, crucifies at last.
EVEN SONG
I sing a song to the sapphire sky That curtains a sleeping earth. I sing a song to the stars on high That mark a jewel’s worth.
My feeble voice, so weak it sounds, A puny earthy cry, Yet when its echo comes to me, Angelic voice in harmony, I know it is not I.
It was belief that gave it wing, That weakling voice of mine, And carried it where angels sing God’s Melody Divine.
GYPSIES
(To R. B.)
Little gypsies of the city, Little sparrows--more’s the pity, Homeless, heedless of the weather, Happy, banding all together, Never giving thought to trouble, Never seeing evil double, Would that we who proudly mention Every honorable intention To the world with trumpet blaring, Could, like sparrows, take uncaring All the little earthly struggles, Cast them gypsy-like aside And fly happily, and gladly All about earth’s countryside.
Why do the birds chant the psalm of glory?
Only because they alone are free throated and unafraid. Do they realize the danger in the sling-shot of civilization? No--they are only conscious of the Joy within.
Why sing of Joy-- If Joy is to be unheard. Why sing of Faith, If Faith is to be barred. For all that is good Is forever alive, And all that is bad Is dead before it be born.
THE CARRIER
(To J. K.)
A poor little messenger clad in gray, Sent as a go-between--they say. Took a betrayal under its wing And guarded and cherished the slimy thing.
We speak of Glory, and Trust, and Men, But that is all forgotten when We send this softly feathered bird With messages best left unheard.
Oh! What a mockery ’cross the sky The dove is sent to act as spy.
THE SCHOOL OF LIFE
(To M)
Lives are classes--we are pupils with excellent teachers. Experience should tutor us, but we so often shirk school. School can be made happy and we delight in making a higher grade--but through not heeding Experience’s teaching we often are left back in the old class, and sometimes, sad to relate, are put several grades lower.
But, happily, there is always the opportunity of skipping many grades upward. It’s a poor rule that doesn’t work both ways.
The Mind is the Grade we work in. We can have majestic thoughts, living in a hermit’s hut, or we can think as a swine in a palace on a throne of gold--let us choose our station--kingly children, or swineherds. Eternity is the Empire.
THE WANTON
To love, save that which mockery was, No heart, save that of stone. A multitude forever hers, Alas--not one--alone!
Cradled in the arms of many, Not where to lay her weary head. Fortune smiled--held out her hand And struck the wanton dead.
SLAVERY
(To E. A. P.)
Love I am a slave, Yet free as birds above, Sold into bondage By the tender kiss of love.
Lust I am a slave In the rat trap of disgust, Sold into bondage By the lurid kiss of lust.
Hate I am a slave Prisoned by the walls of fate, Sold into bondage By the cruel kiss of hate.
Crime I am a slave Behind the bars of time, Sold into bondage By the leprous kiss of crime.
Death I am a slave No longer in my breath, Given sight of freedom Through the graciousness of death.
Still am I a slave In the hand of destiny, Thought alone enslaved me And thought alone can free.
WITHIN A WALL
Once in a time when skies were gray I chanced to walk in a cloistered way, I saw the ones who closed the door On all the world had spread before. Their eyes--that were closed to the joy of good, They thought the God’s law they understood. O Pity, Pity, for such as they Who only look on skies of gray, From cloistered windows sad of eye, When all about is glorious sky. It was but the tiny patch of gray, The shadowed thing that happened to play Behind the back of the glorious earth. Alas, they thought it was all the worth Of the whole wide world, the glorious world. But the folded wings were not unfurled And closed to use they lost the call, And so they lost to them their all.
THE CHALICE
(To E. H.)
The chalice of a lily cup Is indeed the sacrament That Mother Nature uses When she communes with God.
SOLICITUDE
On the sands of a happy shore, Walked two lovers, hand in hand, Leaving all that’s gone before. They mark each footstep in the sand, Knowing well that every foot print Will be trod by their own blood, Therefore, let each couple ponder O’er their footsteps For future good.
(To D. K.)
Man is the word of the story, Woman is the inspiration, God is the book that binds, None other can be what is now the finished book.
YOU
You are the History of Love and its Justification. The Symbol of Devotion. The Blessedness of Womanhood. The Incentive of Chivalry. The Reality of Ideals. The Verity of Joy. Idolatry’s Defense. The Proof of Goodness. The Power of Gentleness. Beauty’s Acknowledgment. Vanity’s Excuse. The Promise of Truth. The Melody of Life. The Caress of Romance. The Dream of Desire. The Sympathy of Understanding. My Heart’s Home. The Proof of Faith. Sanctuary of my Soul. My Belief of Heaven. Eternity of all Happiness. My Prayers. You.
AT SUNRISE TOMORROW
(To E. B.)
O Love, when you leave me do not say: “Tomorrow we meet at twilight” For that is the time of the darkening hour, The ending of the day. All is glowing, gleaming in our love, All is pulsing, breathing in the light Of understanding--it is not symbolic of twilight, Nor yet of dawning, for it has reached the zenith of love’s day. So when you leave me, dearest, do not say: “Tomorrow we meet at twilight.” Rather, beloved of my heart, “We meet at sunshine tomorrow.”
POVERTY
Possessing the jewels of the earth, Holding within my grasp the sceptre of the universe, All these would but make me more the pauper-- Were I beggared of your love.
CREMATION
(To G. S.)
I
Just a packet of letters tied with a bit of blue, Just a packet of letters that once were sent by you To one who proved unworthy Of the Love inscribed within. The tiny packet of letters, a witness of my sin.
II