All is vanity of vanities and fuss:
God abandoned humanity only because of me I am guilty of
Christ's death and guilty for this hell For Hiroshima and for 9/11,
I am guilty I am guilty for Joan of Arc,
for every plague boil I am guilty for the fire in six hundred sixty-six For every hungry year,
for every empty pocket, alas Guilty for the GULAG,
guilty for the execution of the Romanovs And there,
like the trumpet of Jericho,
an air siren And it is my fault that it's time for the dragon And that at the bottom our fate is seen, poor and unholy But it's dog nonsense — collective guilt I am guilty alone for all — this is my maxim culpa The mortal body paralyzed like from a stroke The sky falls on me, there is nothing to lean on Our wings will grow, yes, but they will never feather They will never feather Now we too on our backs like Sarah Kerrigan Wings without feathers,
like heavy clusters To carry bones unfit for flight.