Kings from the world over
heard me speak with a living sibyl
saw me pour out her bowl on the briar
I poured water over the earth

the kings bowed to my prophecies
their losses I meted out as air
my city rose out of ashes
the famine fell on the day of the fast

the kings the kings met me in mind
with the ravishing of the grain
with the thousand-tongued plea for air
the fire inside my face