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From the old odes and oaths to which the pretend-blueblood would strive since so long ago. There, a queen has now reigned too long and lived too long. But in a royal house once so exalted, there the haughtiness will forsake herself soon. Look therefore at the eagle soaring so high. And listen to the crowd’s urgent prayers. The big red Bear dangerously draws his sword from his sheath. To him everything is now all the same.      

Listen therefore to the world-media that falsely proclaims that the Russian now trembles with fear. Then see how Europe’s steel and concrete cities crumble. Listen to the helpless cries and know that Russia does not listen to anything anymore. From a distant past, Rasputin sends his plea to a stranger in the present. So he sends his prayers and pleads that mother Russia would never tremble before the West. He paints beautiful visions of future-spheres, of a new glorious period which will also happen in Siberia. With beautiful farms and towns instead of industrial cities. Surrounded by green forests in vast regions.       

But from the old odes of long ago, from perished Western royal-blood oaths. Comes a nightmare vision that no living being wants to experience. I see the lot of old land regions that will never ever be revived again. Yes, I see how their past fades away and how their present state disappears. I hear the helpless prayers. Coming from hell, I hear the helpless, teeth-gnashing cries for help from kings and rulers. But in their helpless pleas there is no excuse before the Big Judge-chair. Therefore I know, in the royal houses of today, the loathsome haughtiness will soon forsake itself, into nothing.