ausgezeichnet

And before, I thought there were scissors for sequestration...? Where did they go?

Her gaze blazes with fire,
her hair flies like a blizzard,
and beneath her right collarbone
she bears the sign of the Big Dipper.

To whom is she comparable, a doe, a bird? -
Don't pore over runes, poet!
How can one not fall in love with such a one,
the one whose face is moon-white?!

hellish trash...

Papa Carlo's day wasn't going well?