A woman is wandering through the forest,
Desperate to extract the sliver from her flesh.
Her cries are resounding throughout the land,
But there is nobody to be seen for some distance.
Hiding nearby a thicket is an audacious rogue.
He says to the maiden, Alas, woman! Behold!
Shall ye pass through these thorns unscathed,
Then there be an opportunity to defy your fate.
For who is so courageous as to contend death?
Dost the woman agree or shall she be hewn to pieces?
He sees that the sliver is piercing ever deeper,
The flesh separating more fully where the tip emerges.
But it is interesting to him that she is adorned in gold.
Shall the woman pass through the thicket, thinks the rogue,
The thorns will without a doubt tear the flesh from her limbs,
Leaving nothing but the jewelry she embellishes herself in.
Content that his scheme will work, he urges the woman to come.
If you are successful, He says, you shall have exactly as you want.
The woman is dubious, but ultimately the rogue convinces her.
She slithers through the thicket until she can move no further.
The rogue reminds her that he will only help if she remains unscathed.
She wishes to turn around, but notices the depth of her laceration.
Then, taking a deep breath, the woman forces herself to continue.
But the thorns tear through her flesh and determined to be shrewd,
She turns to the direction of the rogue, who watches with intent.
The woman is less adept upon her return and the thorns become entrenched.
When she finally arrives at the beginning of the thicket, she collapses.
Thus the rogue steals her gold and goes on his way laughing.