The Zealots

The Zealots

 

My God, what am I doing in a world of builders and visionaries.

Sellers of glass beads and lies.

I, simple folk without a shred of talent.

I, a tiny, annoying earwig.

Who constantly asks questions and bothers

 The creators and zealots of the new world.

In bile and rage,

 I shall burn out like a comet.

Who has the right to ask and complain?

Go on, you little common nit, pack your bags!

Be grateful just to be breathing!

 Your barking and brittle teeth can do us no harm.

And watch carefully what you take up and what you write!

My God, what am I doing in a world of builders and visionaries.

 I, simple folk without a shred of talent.