When fishes flew and forests walked     
And figs grew upon thorn,
Some moment when the moon was blood     
Then surely I was born.

With monstrous head and sickening cry     
And ears like errant wings,
The devil’s walking parody    
On all four-footed things.

The tattered outlaw of the earth,     
Of ancient crooked will;
Starve, scourge, deride me: I am dumb,     
I keep my secret still.

Fools! For I also had my hour;     
One far fierce hour and sweet:
There was a shout about my ears,     
And palms before my feet.
-G.K. Chesterton