A song of praise upon the occasion of Heather killing a solifuge: Eremobates pallipes.
1 Long have you hidden from the sun,
hiding in dark unknown crevices.
2 Yet you should have stayed hidden longer;
stayed hidden and not met with calamity.
3 Your speed is legendary;
tales of your quickness are spread on the wind.
4 But in that day your speed did not save you;
you were not able to outrun the aerosol,
aye, the propellant was quicker still.
5 Into our firstborn's room you rushed in,
rushed in foolishly, carelessly.
6 A flower of Scotland espied you;
espied you and decided;
7 she saw your chelicerae and knew,
she understood the threat to her fruit.
8 In a moment this Scottish bloom acted with resolve
emulating the qualities of the national flower,
yea, even the emblem.
9 You saw her and quickly hid,
taking refuge under bureaux.
10 She prepared and waited,
gathering her weapons,
plotting your demise;
11 She assailed your fortress,
cognizing your defenses would unravel.
(12 Put not your trust in bureaucracies.
Nor in regulations or drawers:
in these there are no salvation.)
12 Your foresight was short;
myopically you rushed out.
13 She rained death from above:
toxin from a cylindric vault.
14 You were no match against her attacks.
In pain did you writhe
and your vigor withered.
15 Sing praises to this virtuous woman:
her value is above platinum;
her virtue exceeds the ancients’.
16 Ever is she vigilant in defending her child.
Her husband blesses her aloud.
17 My wife surpasses all women;
her works praise her in the blogosphere.
