And smite the hills with day.
The desert is not remote in southern tropics
The desert is not only around the corner,The desert is squeezed in the tube-train next to you,
The desert is in the heart of your brother.
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With flashing streaks and shafts of amethyst,
While a light crimson mist
Went up before the mounting luminary,
And all the strips of cloud began to vary
Their hues, and all the zenith seemed to ope
As if to show a cope beyond the cope!
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'Cause the desert had turned to sea.
There were plants and birds and rocks and things,
There was sand and hills and rings.
The ocean is a desert with its life underground,
And a perfect disguise above.
Under the cities lies a heart made of ground,
But the humans will give no love.
