Deutschland. Ein Wintermärchen

O, Danton, you were very wrong,
And paid dearly for it!
A man can take his country along,
At the sole of his feet!

About half of the principality
Of Bückenburg stuck to my boots.
In all my life, I’ve never seen
Such clayish and muddy routes.

I got out in town to take a look,
My family originated in Bückenburg,
That’s where my grandfather was born;
My grandmother was born in Hamburg.

I reached Hannover close to noon,
They cleaned my boots from mud and clay;
I immediately set to visit the town,
I like to profit along my way.

My goodness, the place looks so neat!
The streets cleanliness is excessive.
I saw many a splendid building too,
Their size was very impressive.

I particularly liked a spacious square,
With stately homes all around it.
The king lives there, his palace is there,
The exterior is exquisite.

(The palace’s, that is) At each side
Of the gate, a sentry-box stands;
Fierce and menacing redcoats watch,
Carrying muskets in their hands.

“This is Ernst August’s home”,
My guide said. “He’s a high Tory Lord,
An elderly nobleman, but still active,
Considering that he’s quite old.

He is safe here, and needs no guards,
For he fears no insurrection:
The lack of guts of our dear friends,
Remains his best protection.

I see him sometimes, and he complains:
A more boring job, one cannot find,
Like his royal job in Hannover,
Where he is now confined.

He finds our way of life too narrow,
Being used to the British way.
He suffers from spleen, and rather fears
He’ll hang himself some day.

The day before yesterday I found him
Stooping sadly, by the fire at dawn.
He mixed a cure for his ailing dogs,
And the recipe was his own.”

Germany. A Winter’s Tale

Caput XIX