Your brown-black eyes stare at me,
As questioning as they can:
Who are you and what ails you,
You strange, unhealty man?

« I am a German poet,
In German lands, I shine
And when great names arementioned,
They' ll surely mention mine.

And what I lack, little one,
Most Germans lack the same,
And when great sorrows are mentioned,
My own they're sure to name. »