For it was snowing that night and as fast as the snow fell it was frozen, whereupon he said: ‘My conscience! Great is the suffering I have endured from the time my feathers have grown until to-night. I know,’ said he, ‘that though I might meet my death therefrom, it were better that I should trust people than suffer these woes forever.’ Thereupon he recited the poem proclaiming aloud his woes: