September—the beech trees wrote.
In the park the teacher a-b-c'ed
when suddenly the stranger appeared,
clanking.
Because the teacher grew pale,
the children shrieked.
Mars walked through the city
multiplying the flags;
he accepted the toast.
(He especially liked the little word "just")
A barber trimmed him for nothing,
for nothing a smith shod him.

Mars took quarters in the city hall,
he was enthusiastic about towers
and above all, he appreciated card indexes.
He collected ragpickers and bums,
and made them knight and adviser.
Hidden in a fold of his garment
the locust lurked.
"Strictest blackout!" he commanded
and gnashed his teeth at the moon
when she followed his order
only now and then.