Monday, 20 February 2012

New World


These things have no need of Conquests.  Why wasn't this enough?  An Emperor on his knees offered them a universe.  They could have lived here as gods, as angels in the flesh.
As ordinary men.
Conquistadors you should have been the ones to kneel!  Kneel on blackrot gangrene knees.  Kneel on your iron greaves.  Ever onward Christian soldiers you all died broke -- didn't you.  Bleeding gold shitting piles of dysenteric gold -- dying poor, dreaming still.  Deliverer!  goldshackled dragonslayer -merchant's dupe - they made fortunes off you, the bankers' burros.  You traded your own blood for promissory notes. only had to accept the world to save your soul.  The world as it was offered.  But all you saw was gold.  Coins laid flat on the clench of your lids."
                                                                                        Hunger's Brides by Paul Anderson

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