Heaven cries whether its uselessness Because where the peasant once was dancing the halt and the lame are gathering now Turned away they bear their countenance – withheld satisfaction Deep holes starring – empty shells Dionysos is dead But by the echo of the thunder the animal dies its heroic death Where recently a template sat the orgy is reflected in the loss of face You’re the downstairsstars You’re the downstairsstars Completely disregard The casting out of gods The wise are wondering – which bizarre alliance Pantomimes of their own defeat -no magic without faith! Glissando of the human sense chopped in equal pieces by precise obstinacy The animal is yelling, confirming itself, mangling itself, solidary scorn against itself