[L]ong already the heavenly palace, O Caesar, 
grudges thee to us, and murmurs that thou shouldst care 
for human triumphs, where right and wrong are confounded, 
where all these wars cover the world,
 where wickedness is so manifold and the 
plough's meed of honour is gone; 
the fields thicken with weeds, 
for the tillers are marched away, 
and bent sickles are forged into the stiff swordblade:
 here the Euphrates, there Germany heaves with war; 
neighbouring cities rush into arms 
one against another over broken laws:
the merciless War-God rages through all the world:
even as when chariots bursting from their barriers
quicken lap by lap, and, vainly tugging at the curb, 
the driver is swept on by his horses, 
and the car hearkens not to the rein.