Giant Thunder, striding home,
Wonders if his supper's done.

"Hag wife, hag wife, bring me bones!"
"They are not done," the old hag moans.

"Note done? Not done?" the giant roars,
And heaves the old wife out of doors.

Cries he, "I'll have them, cooked or not!"
And overturns the cooking pot.

He flings the burning coals about;
See how the lightning flashes out!

Upon the gale the old hag rides,
The clouded mooon for terror hides.

All the wolrd with thunder quakes;
Forest shudders, mountain shakes;

From the cloud the rainstorm breaks;
Village ponds are turned to lakes;
Every living creature wakes.

Hungry giant, you lie still!
Stamp no more from hill to hill,
Tomorrow, you shall have your fill.


Coop

Penned by my hand on the 11th of Glacian, in the year 242 AF.