VI.

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).