| A terrible racket makes me suffer, like a fanfare
|
| Marching throughout my head, booming so loud my soul has become deaf…
|
| Nevertheless, reality stands firm, but a very strange conceptual world
|
| Occurs inside this mad, distorted ode
|
| Behind my eyes, comes the ludicrous crowd, full of movie makers' imagery
|
| So forth i am, so forth i dream
|
| Frenzied and rushed unceasingly
|
| Drawn by the wizard’s patterns
|
| My mind is no longer my own
|
| Above those hard-packed illusions, bright with pictures, that shall kill the
|
| wise’s vigour
|
| Is spoiled a great generation
|
| Mankind has lost its mind, and therewith the arable ground, the vast field,
|
| the great
|
| Which the scholars own
|
| Cursed species — humans
|
| Can you imagine?
|
| What shall save you, once the intelligence
|
| Will become speechless?
|
| Locked into silence?
|
| When you will remain a fabric’s device
|
| Old majesty, deprived from her kingdom, her memory will never carry on
|
| There goes the orb of a system
|
| Ones, adorn with a sad eden, and others tried to make it perfect |