Larenopfer

In Autumn

139 in AutuMn A spider web immense spreads indian summer through the hemisphere. rejoicing in the ripened year, Petřin70 dons festive gold-brown dress. And as the hill with mellow colours plays a weary sun on crutches made of rays looks West with wistful eye to end its quest to old Valladolid, where it will rest. tHE LittLE tinKEr71 There he comes, young peddler monger, strainer, mousetraps on his back. He goads me on the bridges, on the roads: Sir, please, i have such ‘turkish Hunger.’72 Just one Kreuzer,73 just a single one to buy a bread, o milost pánků!”74 There, my lad! He stammers “thank you,” but his legs pursue me as they can. From peddling he can live no longer, smells those roasts beyond the doors, yet empty are the pans he fixes, as he roars— That’s why he has such “turkish hunger.” ...