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I see a spear stuck into the ground. I see a shield broken into two. I see Cain-Cush standing weak and tender. He admits, I, Raca, have always been a fool and a laic.   

From the Vatican I hear insipid preaching. Through this the pope tries to hide his ambiguous heart. I hear a big cry for help. While Russia’s sickle is cutting Africa cruelly.    

I know time is becoming worn-out and it is finished. I see death clothed in a war garment. He goes wide and south and is unbelievably cruel. Then I see Gabriel as Judgment Angel, hidden in a human.    

He leaves the kings of the earth trembling, weak and tender. Under the command of heaven, he supports the little Boer volk and make them, in their justified anger, white and pale. But he also lets them know. Only in your only El do you stand perfect, complete.