History noised around that we're finished
they say we are a parasite
and at last; shut up, we, the orators, have spoken enough
from now on in this theatre group we'll only play as ghosts.

Lower the flags; in the avenues we marched
they say the compass cards and the horizons have changed
they make us a favour to put up with us and to have let us laugh
now only those who know will be able to speak publicly.

News bulletins were issued; it was officially announced
that we are wrong, in the Chapter of the wrong entry
the rotten world was strengthened again
and our uprisings are generally out of the "climate".

History, the slut, stated we have grown old
our persistence is collected by garbage tracks
foreign dreams and rugs, we cheered
and now, in our stand, we are paid with a rain of ten drachma coins.

History, the whore, tore apart ancient dreams
it now treats us as if we were retired
we fixed her virginity tightly with stitches
we carried her and she carried us to the windmill