The world was renovated; it became like steel⁠—a sun of steel, trees of steel, men of steel. Suddenly an insane man, “Unchained the fire and set it free,” and again the world had perished.⁠ ⁠… Unfortunately I have a bad memory for poetry, but one thing I am sure of: one could not choose more instructive or more beautiful parables.

Another slow, heavy gesture of the cast-iron hand and another poet appeared on the steps of the Cube. I stood up! Impossible! But⁠ ⁠… thick negro lips⁠—it was he. Why did he not tell me that he was to be invested with such high.⁠ ⁠… His lips trembled; they were gray. Oh, I certainly understood; to be face to face with the Well-Doer, face to face with the hosts of Guardians! Yet one should not allow oneself to be so upset.

Swift sharp verses like an axe.⁠ ⁠… They told about an unheard-of crime, about sacrilegious poems in which the Well-Doer was called.⁠ ⁠… But no, I do not dare to repeat.⁠ ⁠…