English poem
The Witch
by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe (1749–1832)
With all my heart! Now, here’s a bottle, Wherefrom, sometimes, I wet my throttle, Which, also, not the slightest, stinks; And willingly a glass I’ll fill him.
(Whispering)
Yet, if this man without due preparation drinks, As well thou know’st, within an hour ’twill kill him.