Saturday, March 7, 2009

"But a rival, of Solutre, told the tribe my style was outre--
'Neath a tomahawk, of diorite, he fell
And I left my views on Art, barbed and tanged, below the heart
Of a mammothistic etcher at Grenelle.
Then I stripped them, scalp from skull,
and my hunting-dogs fed full,
And their teeth I threaded neatly on a thong;
And I wiped my mouth and said,
It is well that they are dead,
For I know my work is right and theirs was wrong."

Rudyard Kipling
"Neolithic Age"

1 comment:

  1. Why exclude "There are nine and sixty ways of constructing tribal lays,
    And every single one of them is right."?
    Is this all a game? A competition? We must obey and praise "what should be" instead of nurture and be compassionate to "what is"?


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