Skyrim Poem Machinima "The Detractors" (original: "ballade des langues ennuyeuses" by François Villon)

I've long wanted to use the poem "ballade des langues ennuyeuses" by François Villon in a Skyrim Machinima.

Torture cellar of the Thalmor ... a prisoner ... last words ...

(François Villon, born in Paris in 1431 and disappeared from view in 1463, is the best known French poet of the late Middle Ages.)

So far, there is no English soundtrack of the text. That's why I added the German version, spoken by Klaus Kinski.

The English version (translated by Paul Zech):

The detractors

In lime, still unslaked, in iron pulp,

in salt, salpetre, phosphor blazes,

in urine of female donkeys in heat,

in snake poison and in hag’s spittle,

in dogshit and water from the bathtubs,

in wolf’s milk, oxen’s bile and latrine flood:

In this juice detractors shall be stewed.

In the brain of a tomcat which does not fish anymore,

in the drivel, [spouting] from the teeth

of the rabid dogs, mixed with monkey’s piss,

in quills, pulled out from a hedgehog,

in the rain barrel, already floating with worms,

croaked rats and the green slime

from mushrooms, glowing like fire in the night,

in horses’ snot and also in hot glue:

In this juice detractors shall be stewed.

In the vessel where everythings ends up

which a physician extracts from the festering

bowel, [speaking of] pus and polluted secretion,

in ointments they salve into their slits,

the whoring tarts, to keep themselves cold,

in all the sludge which remains

in the laces and the crevices

(who would not have to have gone through such shit!):

In this juice detractors shall be stewed.

My lords, pack all the clean things

(if they don’t fit into the rotten pumpkin)

into your trousers, to fill up the keg,

also add the smell of a pig’s arse,

and when this has fermented for four weeks:

In this juice your blaspheming tongues* shall be stewed.