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