III
I murder the peace of summer winds;
I startle the kine and make dogs whine;
I’m the fury of fight, I’m hell’s delight;
I’m the black of death with its stiffening breath;
I’m insanity’s shriek as I try to speak;
I am agony’s glare and its wild despair;
I’m the hiss elate of the warrior’s hate,
The mad, red hiss of the warrior’s hate.
I sing! sing! sing! the wrathful warrior’s song.