They played the flute for us, and we did not dance; they sang a dirge and we did not mourn.
Bye-bye West. You are a has-been. Who no longer shares the same ancestors, language, religion, principles, manners, and customs. It has become nothing but a confused mixture of sounds and voices of tumult, turmoil, uproar, bedlam, and clamor.
The False Trumpet concealing madness will cause Byzantium to change its laws. From Egypt there will go forth a man who wants the edict withdrawn, changing money and standards.
The trumpet shakes with great discord. An agreement broken: lifting the face to heaven: the bloody mouth will swim with blood; the face anointed with milk and honey lies on the ground.