[0.11] Has he drawn them to himself, / All the wicked trouble-makers, / Those who repeatedly lied to the earth, / They, the madman of the earth, / Apprehended here at once / By the hordes of peaceful spirits / And on the iron honed dull, / Blunt for the lust for distant murder.

[0.12] Now transformed into snow and ice / Lying there in trillions / Already outdated as towering ornaments gray and aged / On the cold sovereign thrones. / See the Glockner's useful reign, / See, how he serves for order, / Hence his rough appearance, / That is why he towers high!