'Do you see him, she cried, the old lecher dies;
Through his mouth the frosts of earth take flight;
Bind his lame feet, destroy his sight,
He's the god of craters, king of the winter's ice!
Through his mouth the frosts of earth take flight;
Bind his lame feet, destroy his sight,
He's the god of craters, king of the winter's ice!
19th Century French Poetry
