The Murderer’s Wine (Le Vin de l’assassin)

My wife is dead, I am free!
Now I can drink my troubles hence
When I came home without a pence
Her nagging ripped at every part of me.

Now I’m as happy as a king
The air is pure the sky is bliss
The days were lovely just like this
When I knelt and offered her my ring.

This wicked thirst that wracks my thoughts
Could not be sated truth be told
By all the wine her tomb can hold
And my friends you know that that would be a lot:

For I threw her down a well
And her body I did wedge
With all the rocks around the edge
Maybe I’ll still blot her out in Hell.

Thinking of those tender bonds,
Which can never be unsealed,
And hoping to be reconciled
Like we were in drunken days of yon–

I implored her to make amends
And meet me on some lonely rue
And she showed up – the crazy shrew!
I guess we are all crazy in the end.

She was still my pretty wife
Though very tired, and I won’t lie:
I loved her too much! that is why
I told her that she must depart this life!

Above you all I sail like a cloud
How many of you stupid clods
Were ever roused by morbid thoughts
To make your wine into a shroud?

You scoundrels not worth half a sou
Melodic as a hammer’s tune
Not in December or June
Have you ever even known a love that’s true.

Its enraptured midnight moans
Its carnival of hellish fears
Its vials of poison, all its tears,
the clattering of manacles and bones.

And now at last free and unbound!
I will get dead drunk tonight;
And then without remorse or fright
I’ll lie my widowed body on the ground.

And I’ll sleep just like a stray
Though some overburdened cart
So full of stones it falls apart
But not before it rolls my lucky way.

To pulverize my guilty skull
Or to cut me down the middle
Of either one I care as little
As I do for Holy Bible, God or Dev-il!

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