Aime Cesaire
from Return to My Native Land 


I should discover once again the secret of great communications and of great combustions. I should say storm. I should say river. I should say tornado. I should say leaf. I should say tree. I should be wet by all rains, made damp with all dews. I should roll like frenzied blood on the slow current of the eye of words like mad horses, clots of fresh children, curfews, vestiges of temples, precious stones far enough away to discourage miners. Whoever would not comprehend me would not comprehend the roaring of the tiger. 

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© Aime Cesaire 1956