Читать книгу Where Robot Mice And Robot Men Run Round In Robot Towns - Рэй Брэдбери, Ray Bradbury, Ray Bradbury Philip K. Dick Isaac Asimov - Страница 10

Thrown out of Eden

Now we headlong humans

Sinners sinned against

Return.

Tossed from the central sun

We with our own concentric fires

Blaze and burn.

Once at the hub of wakening

And vast starwheel,

For centuries long-lost, and made to feel

Unwanted, orphaned, mindless,

Driven forth to grassless gardens,

Dead and desert sea,

We were shut out by comet grooms like Kepler

Galileo Galilei

Whose short-sight probing light-years

Upped and said:

The Hub’s not here!

So shot man through the head

And worse, each starblind prophet killed a part,

Snugged shut our souls,

Chopped short our reach,

Entombed our living heart.

But now we bastard sons of time

Pronounce ourselves anew

And strike fire-hammer blows

To change tomorrow’s clime, its meteor snows.

Our rocket selfhood grows

To give dull facts a shake, break data down

To climb the Empire State and thundercry the town;

But more! reach up and strike

And claim from Heaven

The Garden we were shunted from,

For now, space-driven

We fit, fix, force and fuse,

Re-hub the systems vast

Respoke starwheel

And at the spiraled core

Plant foot, full fire-shod

And thus saints feel

Or yeast like flesh of God.

We march back to Olympus,

Our plain-bread flesh burns gold!

We clothe ourselves in flame

And trade new myths for old.

The Greek gods christen us

With ghosts of comet swords;

God smiles and names us thus:

“Arise! Run! Fly, my Lords!”