We live beyond your modern man
And all his justifications for his world of progress
And though he has created his alibis by falsifying history
By smearing what was left of our name
By insinuating poisonous myths in the minds of our peoples
By proclaiming himself sovereign at the crossroads of ideologies
This, his modern civilization is not superior
It is not enlightened nor privileged
This man of progress is a decrepit man
A defeated, crepuscular man
In the dark as to whence and whither
He is moving from nothing to nothingness
He has neither shape nor form
Neither grace nor purpose
And yet, in his cadaverous wisdom
Is glorified as the overcomer, the justifier and liberator
In an otherwise dark and superstitious world
But rest assured
You, who deem yourselves masters of the earth
We have not vanished
We, late children of the tradition
Still have dominion over you
We have dominion over you