In the hooded gyre of the Age of the Bunin Kings:
First introduced under obscure names and disguises,
The Fool with a narrow forehead and one subdued eye,
Cloaked within a foxskin hood with tail dangling,
Will confound the throned monarch wrapt in pease-straw,
Whose cold wounded hand grasps two fatal aspects.
At the hastened hour of the forthcoming Sun,
Malice in the blood whips the summer sea high.
With all dread ramifications of Agot's piteous error,
Floodwaters shatter the immense vault of the quarry fortress.
The burning children of Anterrabae and Shukimanu
Walk in the master's footsteps, house to house,
Village to village, clothed in unapproachable light.