Oh vanity, oh shameless rascal who hides from truth and the bitter honesty that the cold brings. How could thou not see what was in front, or in fact, below thy face. The layers of garments and years are ignored in your haste and self-preservation. Go on then. Go on and save thyself. I have no power or’ you.
Translation: It is so cold my balls have found new places to hide, and it isn’t even January yet!