A man, sweat dripping from his brow
earns his first bread and now knows how.
From bread to ham the step is small
and now the appetite wants all.
A lobster sits upon his table
expensive bubbly, he is able.
The rich get to this upper stage
arriving on their final page.
They see that there is nothing else
beyond the luxury of smells.
He reminisces of the bread
before he reaches it, drops dead.
Note: This was inspired by Eugen Roth's Lebensleiter. It is a loose translation thereof.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
wow, that's really deep, and so true