It is not bad. Let them play.
Let the guns bark and the
bombing-plane
Speak his prodigious
blasphemies.
It is not bad, it is high
time,
Stark violence is still the
sire of all the world’s values.
What but the wolf’s tooth
whittled so fine
The fleet limbs of the
antelope?
What but fear winged the
birds, and hunger
Jewelled with such eyes the
great goshawk’s head?
Violence has been the sire of
all the world’s values.
Who would remember Helen’s
face
Lacking the terrible halo of
spears?
Who formed Christ but Herod
and Caesar,
The cruel and bloody victories
of Caesar?
Violence, the bloody sire of
all the world’s values.
Never weep, let them play,
Old violence is not too old to
beget new values.
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