Farewell

Without knocking, a gentleman comes visiting me one evening:

"I have the honour to be your critic!" he says.

Immediately he takes the light in his hand,

gazes long at my shadow on the wall,

stepping close and then stepping back: "Now, my good young man,

kindly see how your nose

looks from the side!

You must admit that it is a protuberance."

This? Good gracious - so it is!

My word! I never imagined - my whole life long -

that such a world-sized nose I bore on my face!

The man said various other things about this and that,

and on my honour, I remember no more;

perhaps he thought I should give him a confession.

Finally he stood up and I lit his way out.

As we stood at the top of the stairs,

I gave him, cheerfully,

a small kick

from behind, on the backside,

and by hail! what a jolting,

tumbling, and hobbling!

The equal have I never seen,

my whole life long,

of a man going so quickly down the stairs!