I walk among you, breathing clay,
Everything I touch is smeared with red earth,
You who created me will not easily forget the day
Your computations [and your magic] gave me birth.
I shall fashion my earthen generations
After my own kind, we will conquer your vanity,

Transform you for your longed-for dispensation
Of harmony and bliss. But know this: the joy
Of paradise will demand your soul for the new sanity:
Whom we would make sane, we must first destroy.

Used and reprinted by permission of the author.

Click here for a reading of the poem by the author.

Click here for a video of the Melbourne premiere of Leonard Lehrman's setting, Jan. 5, 2002.