The Desert Is An Ocean In Which

The Beduin Of The Desert, Born And Grown Up In It, Had Embraced With All His Sour This Nakedness Too Harsh For Volunteers, For The Reason, Felt But Inarticulate, That There He Found Himself Indubitably Free.

Yet When We Achieved, And The New World Dawned, The Old Men Came Out Again And Took Our Victory To Remake It In The Likeness Of The Former World They Knew. Youth Could Win, But Had Not Learned To Keep: And Was Pitiably Weak Against Age. We Stammered That We Had Worked For A New Heaven And A New Earth, And They Thanked Us Kindly And Made Their Peace.

As Long As The Arabs Fight Tribe Against Tribe, So Long Will They Be A Little People, A Silly People, Greedy, Barbarous And Cruel.

Men Have Looked Upon The Desert As Barren Land, The Free Holding Of Whoever Chose; But In Fact Each Hill And Valley In It Had A Man Who Was Its Acknowledged Owner And Would Quickly Assert The Right Of His Family Or Clan To It, Against Aggression.

I Haven't Got A Heart: Only The Former Site Of One, With A Monument There To Say That It Has Been Removed And The Area It Occupied Turned Into A Public Garden, In Pursuance Of The Slum-clearance Scheme.