在新石器时代，我为了食物、名誉和毛茸茸的马皮发动了野蛮的战争;在那朦胧的，红色的人类黎明，我是我氏族的歌手，我唱出了我们战斗、恐惧和感受的一切。是的，我像现在一样歌唱，当史前的春天把堆积的比斯卡亚冰袋劈开推挤;巨魔、地精、地灵，以及悬崖和贝格的众神都在我的周围，在我的上面和下面。但是一个对手，Solutr]/e，告诉部落我的风格是~outr]/e~——他倒在闪长岩的战斧下。我把我对艺术的看法，尖刻尖刻的，留在了格里奈尔的一个猛犸象蚀刻师的心脏下面。我就剥去他们的头皮、把我的猎犬吃饱了。我把它们的牙整齐地套在皮带上。我擦了擦嘴，说:“他们死了真好。因为我知道我的工作是对的，他们的工作是错的。”但我的图腾看到了耻辱;他从他的脊柱神殿来了，他在夜间的异象中告诉我:“有六十九种方法来建立部落的秩序，每一种都是正确的!” . . . . . Then the silence closed upon me till They put new clothing on me Of whiter, weaker flesh and bone more frail; And I stepped beneath Time's finger, once again a tribal singer [And a minor poet certified by Tr--ll]. Still they skirmish to and fro, men my messmates on the snow, When we headed off the aurochs turn for turn; When the rich Allobrogenses never kept amanuenses, And our only plots were piled in lakes at Berne. Still a cultured Christian age sees us scuffle, squeak, and rage, Still we pinch and slap and jabber, scratch and dirk; Still we let our business slide -- as we dropped the half-dressed hide -- To show a fellow-savage how to work. Still the world is wondrous large, -- seven seas from marge to marge, -- And it holds a vast of various kinds of man; And the wildest dreams of Kew are the facts of Khatmandhu, And the crimes of Clapham chaste in Martaban. Here's my wisdom for your use, as I learned it when the moose And the reindeer roared where Paris roars to-night: -- There are nine and sixty ways of constructing tribal lays, And -- every -- single -- one -- of -- them -- is -- right!