I was there when Atlas fell;
when the world he'd faithfully shouldered
numbly, densely rolled him over.
With no regard for the god beneath,
nor time to wonder at his defeat,
the traitorous marble whirled wayward and wild,
and spared not a second for Clymene's child.
I was there when Atlas fell.
I rained down a rage murderous and wild,
and stopped the world for Clymene's child;
no time to recover the drowned Hyadem beneath
with regard neither for victory, nor for defeat,
until numbly, densely upon Synechoan shoulders,
with thunder in throat, I heaved the world over.
I was there when Atlas fell;
waged war with the world and lived to tell.
On this mutinous marble, third orb from the sun,
no daughters more devoted than Rain-Makers. None.