For its crevasses and flowing fires show a symmetry which is not Nature's; it reveals discipline let loose, and the frenzy of wisdom.

It is made up of thought, of will, of suffering.

Multitudes of scattered men, full of an infinity of blood, confront each other like floods.

A vision comes and pounces on me, shaking the soil on which I am doubtless laid--the marching flood.

It approaches the ditch from all sides and is poured into it.