Page 205 - BRAVE NEW WORLD By Aldous Huxley (1894-1963)

Brave New World By Aldous Huxley

set the cup down on the floor beside the bed,

turned over on her side, hiccoughed once or twice

and went to sleep.

He opened the book at random.

Nay, but to liveIn the rank sweat of an

enseamed bed, Stew'd in corruption, honeying and

making love Over the nasty sty

The strange words rolled through his mind;

rumbled, like talking thunder; like the drums at the

summer dances, if the drums could have spoken;

like the men singing the Corn Song, beautiful,

beautiful, so that you cried; like old Mitsima saying

magic over his feathers and his carved sticks and his

bits of bone and stone–kiathla tsilu silokwe silokwe

silokwe. Kiai silu silu, tsithl–but better than

Mitsima's magic, because it meant more, because it

talked to him, talked wonderfully and only half-

understandably, a terrible beautiful magic, about

Linda; about Linda lying there snoring, with the

empty cup on the floor beside the bed; about Linda

and Popé, Linda and Popé.

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