So here are a few excerpted lines from W. H. Auden's Diaspora:
How he survived them they could never understand . . .
No worlds they drove him from were ever big enough . . .
And he fulfilled the role for which he was designed:
On heat with fear, he drew their terrors to him,
And was a godsend to the lowest of mankind,
Till there was no place left where they could still pursue him
Except that exile which he called his race.
But, envying him even that, they plunged right through him
Into a land of mirrors without time or space,
And all they had to strike now was the human face.
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