In the evening ring the concrete walls
From deadly weapons, the silver plains
and blue lakes, over which the sun
abates and slowly dies down
Dark rolls; encircles the night
Dying light; the wild lament
of their shattered mouths
of their withered hearts
Red cloud, in it an angry god lives
The spilled blood itself, the night
Dispersed between the darkened souls,
decomposing, the idiocy shines
O proud grief! Your earlier altars
The scorching flame of the mind
Feeds from the fear, from inner wars
the world obdurately binds