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| When fishes flew and forests walked |
| And figs grew upon thorn, |
| Some moment when the moon was blood |
| Then surely I was born. |
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| With monstrous head and sickening cry |
| And ears like errant wings, |
| The devil's walking parody |
| On all four-footed things. |
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| The tattered outlaw of the earth, |
| Of ancient crooked will; |
| Starve, scourge, deride me: I am dumb, |
| I keep my secret still. |
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| Fools! For I also had my hour; |
| One far fierce hour and sweet: |
| There was a shout about my ears, |
| And palms before my feet. |
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