Litania [English translation]

More mature than our fathers, when they were our age

Hopeless their path we follow - in spite of all.

At times weaker than dust we hold storms

and to forgotten cultures we raise statues.

At times tougher than rock and like rock unfeeling

with sight we avoid the pavement ripped for throwing.

Broader than sages we hide thought for later;

We call orders – mercy and enlightenment – ignorance;

More worthy than kings from low mud

we challenge blind history's forces.

But wiser than chiefs, with faces hung

we hand them daily their rusted stirrup.

More mortal than flowers, we raise for harvest

as scythes moves in, and gleanings sell out.

More just than judges in high tribunals

with learned calm we take judgements.

More ruthless than executioners, at last great and alone

we talk on scaffold with heads cut off.