Where Adriatic stone runs quite deep and cold
In karst-locked rivers, pretty dark, silent and old
Deep in the dark, where silent waters crawl
The baffling olm abides within its limestone hall.
Pale and unpigmented, like phantom lace arrayed
A slender and subterranean proteus is portrayed
Crimson plumes of lace adorn its sightless head
And three-toed limbs through silent waters tread.
In hidden streams where silent currents creep
The frozen depths just lull its vital spark to sleep
The pulse of metabolism is slow, a distant drum
Years pass in fasting, patiently waiting for a crumb.
The olm delays its love life for umpteen years
In the darkness deep where freezing water flows
In pitch-dark caves, they mate just once a decade
The female guards her eggs until the young arise.
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