Ah, Lives Of Men! When Prosperous They

In The Sinews Of The Dead There Is No Blood.

You Have Been Trapped In The Inescapable Net Of Ruin By Your Own Want Of Sense.

The People's Awe And Innate Fear Will Hold Injustice Back By Day, By Night, So Long As The People Leave The Laws Intact, Just As They Are: Muddy The Cleanest Spring, And All You'll Have To Drink Is Muddy Water.

For This Our Task Hath Fate Spun Without Fail To Last For Ever Sure, That We On Man Weighed Down With Deeds Of Hate Should Follow Till The Earth His Life Immure. Nor When He Dies Can He Boast Of Being Truly Free.

On Me The Tempest Falls. It Does Not Make Me Tremble. O Holy Mother Earth, O Air And Sun, Behold Me. I Am Wronged.