Mankind, The Great (or The Fate of Man's Empire)
Rockets cut the knot of gravity,
breaking the Bucephalus of space.
Round about me, man’s concrete bridle
reminds me that Earth’s a conquered place.
Oracle! Reveal the fate of man!
Sons of god, destined to own the stars?
Death in some uncharted Babylon?
Where is conquest leading us to? Where?!
Nature’s flame and her immortals are
well positioned on the plane of time
and turning Philotas, for flowers
and blue skies, is such a tempting crime.
Let’s surrender to the spring and be
a happy satrapy of nature.
Fingers stroke the phalanx of warm grass
and no army’s power seems greater.