These that I'm hitting off today Are sketches unpretending; Toward Italy without delay, My steps I think of bending.
Alas! ill-fortune leads me here, Where riot still grows louder; And 'mong the witches gather'd here, But two alone wear powder!
Your powder and your petticoat, Suit hags, there's no gainsaying; Hence I sit fearless on my goat, My naked charms displaying.
We're too well-bred to squabble here, Or insult back to render; But may you wither soon, my dear, Although so young and tender.
Nose of fly and gnat's proboscis, Throng not the naked beauty! Frogs and crickets in the mosses, Keep time and do your duty!
What charming company I view Together here collected! Gay bachelors, a hopeful crew, And brides so unaffected!
Unless indeed the yawning ground Should open to receive them, From this vile crew, with sudden bound, To Hell I'd jump and leave them.
With small sharp shears, in insect guise, Behold us at your revel! That we may tender, filial-wise, Our homage to the devil.
Look now at yonder eager crew, How naïvely they're jesting! That they have tender hearts and true, They stoutly keep protesting!
Oneself amid this witchery How pleasantly one loses; For witches easier are to me To govern than the Muses!
With proper folks when we appear, No one can then surpass us! Keep close, wide is the Blocksberg here As Germany's Parnassus.
How name ye that stiff formal man, Who strides with lofty paces? He tracks the game where'er he can, "He scents the Jesuits' traces."
Where waters troubled are or clear, To fish I am delighted; Thus pious gentlemen appear With devils here united.
By pious people, it is true, No medium is rejected; Conventicles, and not a few, On Blocksberg are erected.
Another chorus now succeeds, Far off the drums are beating. Be still! The bitterns 'mong the reeds Their one note are repeating.
Each twirls about and never stops, And as he can he fareth. The crooked leaps, the clumsy hops, Nor for appearance careth.
To take each other's life, I trow, Would cordially delight them! As Orpheus' lyre the beasts, so now The bagpipe doth unite them.
My views, in spite of doubt and sneer, I hold with stout persistence, Inferring from the devils here, The evil one's existence.