Shall fruit where ye slept!

Ye shall not see my strikers; ye shall hear them and guess;

By night, before the moon-rise, I will send for my cess,

And the wolf shall be your herdsman

By a landmark removed,

For the Karela, the bitter Karela,

Shall seed where ye loved!

I will reap your fields before you at the hands of a host;

Ye shall glean behind my reapers, for the bread that is lost,

And the deer shall be your oxen

By a headland untilled,

For the Karela, the bitter Karela,

Shall leaf where ye build!

I have untied against you the club-footed vines,

I have sent in the Jungle to swamp out your lines.

The trees — the trees are on you!

The house-beams shall fall,

And the Karela, the bitter Karela,

Shall cover you all!