"... somewhere in sands of the desert A shape with lion body and the head of a man,
A gaze blank and pitiless as the sun, Is moving its slow thighs, while all around it
Reel shadows of the indignant desert birds. The darkness drops again; but now I know
That twenty centuries of stony sleep Were vexed to nightmare by a rocking cradle,
And what rough beast, its hour come round at last,
Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?"
-W. B. YEATS-