A bunch of lousy wannabes,
A group of nasty pests,
A posse of encroaching beings,
afflicted by the stench of Isfet,
crossed the borders of Ma’at,
The hunting grounds of the lion pride,
my mother’s lands,
the territory of the black thing,
that rests in the shade of Sutekh.
So I hit them in anger,
Burned them and slashed them,
As the lions do in murderous frenzy;
And in my rage, I made strange prey,
The living heart of their leader,
beating in my hands.
I took it to my mother,
The lion goddess,
Any my mother told me,
To eat that prey,
To take the power of it,
To take the power of him.
And I refused,
And annoyed my bloodthirsty mother.