That I may lie upon the breast of the Mother and breathe
the air of primal conditions. I have come out from the haunts of men ; From the struggle of wolves upon a carcass, To be melted in Creation's crucible and be made clean ; To know that the law of Nature is freedom.
These are the signs of the Desert :
Light, brilliant and blinding.
Sky and earth ; the pale rim of mountains ; and here, by
my feet, The skull of him that was. I will go out from the Desert while yet I am. I will cast off my fetters and even in rags I will, like a street singer, sing my song. I will sing my song of meditation and defiance ; But even as I go I look back and see the Desert smiling
scornfully. I hear her mocking whisper.
Only Man has enforced his brother;
Only Man has compelled servitude.
Only Man has dwarfed his own godhood, cherished
Poverty and exalted Ugliness. Only Man has defied Nature and set up the idols of his
ignorance. He has denied Freedom and Beauty.
I will not climb unto the Morning peaks and, like a lark, Shoot my exultant song down into the shadows where
the millions drudge and the children are born unto
Labor, But I will lie like a mourner upon the bare and barren
bosom of the Great Mother. I will chant a dirge unto Civilization. I cannot sing a song of Beauty, for Man has put a scar
upon her forehead and twisted her exquisite limbs.
