"Que vois-je remuer autour de ce Gibet?"
What is this I hear? Is it the whispering wind?
Or the lonely sigh of a hanged man, lingering on the Gibet.
Could it be a cricket, who sings? Amongst the leaves that cover the forest, in pity?
Or a fly, buzzing around the ears of he who hears not.
Perhaps, it is the spider, weaving a silken scarf around his neck?
Or the scarab, that alights restlessly upon his head?
It is only a bell that tolls from within city walls.
And the corpse of a criminal.
Reddened by the setting sun.
Note. Translated from Le Gibet by Aloysius Bertrand