THE RENEGADE
23
Gra,
the heat is abating a little, the stone has ceased to vibrate,
I can go out of my hole, watch the desert gradually take on yellow
and ochre tints that will soon be mauve. Last night I waited until
they were asleep, I had blocked the lock on the door, I went out
with the same step as usual, measured by the cord, I knew the
streets, I knew where to get the old rifle, what gate wasn't guarded,
and I reached here just as the night was beginning to fade around
a handful of stars while the desert was getting a little darker. And
now it seems days and days that I have been crouching in these
rocks. Soon, soon, I hope he comes soon! In a moment they'll begin
to look for me, they'll speed over the trails
in
all directions, they
won't know that I left for them and to serve them better, my legs
are weak, drunk with hunger and hate. O! over there,
gra,
at the
end of the trail, two camels are growing bigger, ambling along, al–
ready multiplied by short shadows, they are running with that lively
and dreamy gait they always have. Here they are, here at last!
Quick, the rifle, and I load it quickly. 0 Fetish, my god over
yonder, may your power be preserved, may the offense be multiplied,
may hate rule pitilessly over a world of the damned, may the wicked
forever be masters, may the kingdom come, where in a single city
of salt and iron black tyrants will enslave and possess without pity!
And now,
gra gra,
fire on pity, fire on impotence and its charity,
fire on all that postpones the coming of evil, fire twice, and there
they are toppling over, falling, and the camels flee toward the hori–
zon, where a geyser of black birds has just risen in the unchanged
sky. I laugh, I laugh, the fellow is writhing in his detested habit, he
is raising his head a little, he sees me-me his all-powerful shackled
master, why does he smile at me, I'll crush that smile! How pleasant
is the sound of a rifle-butt on the face of goodness, today, today at
last, all is consummated and everywhere in the desert, even hours
away from here, jackals sniff the non-existent wind, then set out in
a patient trot toward the feast of carrion awaiting them. Victory!
I raise my arms to a heaven moved to pity, a lavender shadow is
just barely suggested on the opposite side, 0 nights of Europe, home,
childhood, why must I weep in the moment of triumph?
He stirred, no the sound comes from somewhere else, and from
the other direction here they come rushing like a flight of dark birds,
my masters, who fall upon me, seize me, ah yes! strike, they fear
their city sacked and howling, they fear the avenging soldiers I called
