I dined once with devils in castle tower
captured while taking refuge from
a ghastly and violent springtime shower.
We played cards and supped on wine
eating of roasts and bread till late
the whole of the evening so divine—
but as the storm raged beyond window glass
thunder and lightning our orchestra
the devils began preparing for High Mass.
And this black and hellish practice began
as obsidian churned up from the shade
and I realized, just as cold, my blood ran,
I was sitting upon the altar, sated like a goat
readied for the slaughter for the fiends
and it was then that I realized and took note:
the storm, violent and turbulent clamour
was called up by these very red demons
in hopes of a fatted calf to capture.
And look, now, as they get out their claws
sharpen their fires, and blow out smoke
with hot drips coursing down their jaws—
Heed me, travelers, exposed to tempest
avoid towers of devils, no matter how amiable
carry on in storm, and ne’er take thy rest
to avoid a situation, (like mine), so pitiable.