A roaring beast paces in a cage in the sky,
Its growing fury consumes the light of day.
Although it cannot be seen by any mortal eye,
It escapes the clouds and swiftly leaps away.
The sorceress who keeps it cracks her silver whip-
The bright flash a warning to the beast.
The spirits of the wind are fearful of her grip,
And, terrified, they flee into the East.
The defiant beast calls forth a growl
So frightening, the skies begin to weep.
Like stone, the sorceress stands with a scowl,
And again the beast takes a mighty leap.
Another flash from the whip’s sharp lash,
And the beast howled as it fell.
Crying out and writhing, it made one final thrash,
Then grew silent underneath its master’s spell.