The Poems of Goethe, Translated in the Original Metres · Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
1821.* ----- THE FOX AND CRANE.
No longer dared to croak or spring; But promised, being half asleep, If suffer'd to the air to creep, As very nightingales to sing. A thaw dissolved the ice so strong,-- They proudly steer'd themselves along, When landed, squatted on the shore, And croak'd as loudly as before. A FEAST was in a village spread,-- It was a wedding-day, they said. The parlour of the inn I found, And saw the couples whirling round, Each lass attended by her lad, And all seem'd loving, blithe, and glad; But on my asking for the bride, A fellow with a stare, replied: "'Tis not the place that point to raise! We're only dancing in her honour; We now have danced three nights and days, And not bestowed one thought upon her." * * * * Whoe'er in life employs his eyes Such cases oft will recognise. To the grave one day from a house they bore A maiden; To the window the citizens went to explore; In splendour they lived, and with wealth as of yore Their banquets were laden. Then thought they: "The maid to the tomb is now borne; We too from our dwellings ere long must be torn, And he that is left our departure to mourn, To our riches will be the successor, For some one must be their possessor.
Text from Project Gutenberg, public domain in the United States.