When the golden rays of the sun sprout forth, and the

     sky is blue with health

A chant will echo from south to north, a cry of abundant
     wealth

But what if one day the sky turned grey, and the sun hid
     its face

What would the meaning of the cry convey, would it not
     be filled with disgrace?

When flames leap forth and mar the ground, when the
     cries of humans fade

Should not old rivalries in forgiveness drowned, be at-
     least for a time allayed?

But the leaders of the world would call me traitor, and
     silence me behind cold bars

So instead I flee around the craters, dying in silence
     still by the world’s scars