Is it my imagination Or are there far fewer birds singing ? What dawn do they mutely await Through the long night of terror ? Silence speaks of pervasive fear And of the loss of ancestral nests.
The protector has taken an axe to the trees. Trees fall; the earth shakes. Raucous cries of dispossession supplant birdsong As the khaki-clad hunters *** sitting ducks While Zeus' swans feast on Leda's flesh.
Rejoice, my countrymen, for the prophecy has come true -The state has indeed withered away.