Aren't you happy I unwrested myself
from my nature sleep, where I laid upon the rocks with an unpecked liver
Noone took the fire from my outstretched hand
is this why I got struck by lightning? Quenched spirits and scorchmarks?
I wonder if the vultures tire of my screeching, and that is why the sky stays empty.
Fine; i will do it myself. Hand me that claw,
Lend me your beak.
Someone's got to punish this fool
for his faith in humanity.
