Her tresses disheveled, her features with clotted blood covered,

Tears pour from her bruised eyes, her iron fangs thick coated
with rust,

Her tongue distils poison, her features are haloed with serpents,

Her hideous bosom is visible under her tatters,

A torch with a blood red flame waves from her tremulous right hand.

Emerging from Cocytus dark and from Tartarus murky

She strode to the crests of the Apennines noble, the prospect

Of earth to survey, spread before her the world panorama

Its shores and the armies that march on its surface: these words
then

Burst out of her bosom malignant: 'To arms, now, ye nations,

While anger seethes hot, seize your arms, set the torch to the
cities,

Who skulks now is lost; neither woman nor child nor the aged

Bowed down with their years shall find quarter: the whole world will
tremble