Absinthe, I adore you, truly!
It seems, when I drink you,
I inhale the young forest's soul,
During the beautiful green season.

Your perfume disconcerts me
And in your opalescence
I see the full heavens of yore,
As through an open door.

What now, O refuge of the d___ed!
That you a vain paradise be,
If you appease my need;

And if, before I enter the door,
You make me put up with life,
By accustoming me to death.

Absinthe... say no more... say no more...

I am the Green Fairy
My robe has the colour of despair
I have nothing in common with the fairies of the past
What I need is blood, red and hot, the palpitating flesh of my victims
Alone, I will kill France, the Present is dead, Vive the future.
But me, I kill the future and in the family I destroy the love of country, courage, honour,
I am the purveyor of hell, penitentiaries, hospitals.

Absinthe... say no more... say no more...

Who am I finally? I am the instigator of crime
I am ruin and sorrow
I am shame
I am dishonour
I am death
I am absinthe

I am shame
I am dishonour
I am death
I am absinthe

Absinthe... say no more... say no more...

[From "Absinthe: History in a Bottle" by Barnaby Conrad III and an anti-absinthe song written by the members of a 19th century Temperance League]

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