35

A sinner proud am I; no need
I take, except I work for it;
I rage, because men say He writ
Predestinate my wilful deed.

The surge of drunkenness and love
Hath lifted up my thoughts, to where
The world-illuming sun doth stare
Amazed upon me as I rove.

From the first dawn my hand was made
Artist of whirlpool and wavecrest,
And when the ocean lies at rest
Of the typhoon I gather aid.

A hundred times before this day
I set the universe afire;
Its peace and health destroys entire
The ardent music that I play.

Before the idols I have danced
And bound the girdle about me,
Till, thundering at my blasphemy,
The city sheikh is God-entranced!

Anon they leap from me away,
Anon they follow in my train,
For no man knoweth in this plain
Whether I hunter am, or prey.

Of Supermen’s society
Naught gains the heart that’s not aglow:
Bring me thy molten brass and, lo!
My elixir shall work in thee.