Africa, Help Me To Go Home, Carry

In The Whole World No Poor Devil Is Lynched, No Wretch Is Tortured, In Whom I Too Am Not Degraded And Murdered.

A Man Screaming Is Not A Dancing Bear. Life Is Not A Spectacle.

Reason, I Sacrifice You To The Evening Breeze.

I Would Rediscover The Secret Of Great Communications And Great Combustions. I Would Say Storm. I Would Say River. I Would Say Tornado. I Would Say Leaf. I Would Say Tree. I Would Be Drenched By All Rains, Moistened By All Dews. I Would Roll Like Frenetic Blood On The Slow Current Of The Eye Of Words Turned Into Mad Horses Into Fresh Children Into Clots Into Curfew Into Vestiges Of Temples Into Precious Stones Remote Enough To Discourage Miners. Whoever Would Not Understand Me Would Not Understand Any Better The Roaring Of A Tiger.

I Have A Different Idea Of A Universal. It Is Of A Universal Rich With All That Is Particular, Rich With All The Particulars There Are, The Deepening Of Each Particular, The Coexistence Of Them All.