Horrible Death

VI. My Cocoon Tightens, Fibers Squeeze


My cocoon tightens, fibers squeeze,
I’m feeling for the air;
I’m thinking about my coming wings
And who put me here.

But power of butterflies will soon be
Mine! I will be aerial!
Over meadows I will fly and swoop
Hunting for the criminal.

But first I must baffle at the hint
And cipher at the sign,
And make much blunder, till at last
He pay outrageous fine.


The published version, and some commentary. Image: The Schmetterlingsjäger by Carl Spitzweg (1840).

2 thoughts on “VI. My Cocoon Tightens, Fibers Squeeze

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