In ashes, in ashes, My family in ashes. I took for myself and built my world, I refused only to light the scene of others' stories, And He, who behaved the same and worse! He spited me for it! Wrecked me for it! Why must I suffer marriage to a wasted insect, And give birth to the unspeakable blot of blood? Where once I was great and winged, Now I am a wet bird too bedraggled and matted to fly, Dripping my tears over the grass Where my lover's thin-legged voice echoes, Singing "Locusts! Ashes!" And where my baby's silent bones lie.