"What! Having the Infinite Force Only to pay oneself distressing spectacles, Impose massacre, inflict agony, Wanting before his eyes only the dead and the dying! In front of this spectator of our extreme pains Our indignation will overcome all terror; We will intersect our rasps of blasphemies, Not without a secret desire to excite his fury. Who knows? We may find some insult Who irritates him so much that, with a mad arm, He tears up our dark planet from the heavens, And shattered this unfortunate globe in a thousand shards. Our audacity at least would save you from being born, You who still sleep in the depth of the future. And we would come out triumphant for having, by ceasing to be, forced God to wash his hands off of Humanity. Ah! What immense joy after so much suffering! Through the debris, over the mass graves. To finally be able to let out this cry of deliverance: No more men under the sky, we are the last!"