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Hopelessness and despair,
    that’s the destiny of the city that shed so much blood,
That perfected its use of lies,
    that overflows with stolen treasures,
Leaving behind endless victims.
The sharp cracking of the whip in the air;
    clattering of wheels on the streets;
Galloping horse hooves;
    clanging, banging chariots;
Charging cavalry troops;
    flashing swords and gleaming spears;
Armies of casualties, piles of dead bodies—too many to count—
    so many you can’t walk without stumbling over them!

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