24
Impotence runs wild in its own way,
blaspheming, execrating time and space.
But many think that now we've come to face
just punishment as toward the Lyre we pace.
For we ourselves by space-law rigorous
have locked us into this sarcophagus
and honor our live burial on high
till our vainglory puts its scepter by.
[Aniara]











