A Ballad of the Fields Poem by Paul Fort

THE devil's ruby eyes peer all night long,
A-hunting mice to spit upon his little prong.

He kills three hundred thousand in his wrath,
And throws them in the village pond, and lights his prong, and stirs the broth,

Which he will make those lovers swallow, who
Think kissing and caressing is the only thing they have to do.

And when they vomit on the pond their hearts, he stirs
The gravy with his little fork, and turns the hearts to porringers,

And hangs them on his long, green tail
To make a din, a din all night long in the gale.

translated by Jethro Bithell