Winter is icumen in

Winter is icumen in,

Lhude sing Goddamm,

Raineth drop and staineth slop,

And how the wind doth ramm!

Sing: Goddamm.

Skiddeth bus and sloppeth us,

An ague hath my ham.

Freezeth river, turneth liver,

Damm you; Sing: Goddamm.

Goddamm, Goddamm, ’tis why I am, Goddamm,

So ‘gainst the winter’s balm.

Sing goddamm, damm, sing goddamm,

Sing goddamm, sing goddamm, DAMM.

    — Ezra Pound, ca. 1915
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