Wilhelm Busch

Wilhelm Busch Poems

Wilhelm Busch Biography

Wilhelm Busch, painter, early cartoonist, and most beloved of all German poets, was born April 15, 1832, in the village of Wiedensahl near Hannover in Lower Saxony, Germany. His greatest ambition was to emulate the Dutch and Flemish masters - Rubens, Hals, Brouwer, Ostade. Instead, he "stumbled into immortality", as the first German Federal President, Theodor Heuss, once put it, through a few caricatures he was asked to do for the satirical magazine "Fliegende Blaetter" that was founded in Munich in 1848. He soon started to add his own humorous verses, and his cartoons became longer and more elaborate; he can be regarded as the father of the modern comic strip, and wherever an Englishman would quote Lewis Carroll's "Alice", a German is likely to quote Busch. Although famous in his later years, he lived quite withdrawn and despised the fuss he thought was made about him. The "Hermit of Wiedensahl" died a confirmed bachelor on January 9, 1908, but his slapstick humour and his unforgettable characters live on forever.

The Best Poem Of Wilhelm Busch

The Mole Part One

In seinem Garten freudevoll
Geht hier ein Gärtner namens Knoll.
Doch seine Freudigkeit vergeht,
Ein Maulwurf wühlt im Pflanzenbeet.
Schnell eilt er fort und holt die Hacke,
Daß er den schwarzen Wühler packe.
Jetzt ist vor allem an der Zeit
Die listige Verschwiegenheit.
Aha! Schon hebt sich was im Beet,
Und Knoll erhebt sein Jagdgerät.
Schwupp! Da - und Knoll verfehlt das Ziel.
Die Hacke trennt sich von dem Stiel.
Das Instrument ist schnell geheilt;
Ein Nagel wird hineingekeilt.
Und wieder steht er ernst und krumm
Und schaut nach keiner Seite um.

A gardener by the name of Knoll
Goes for a joyful garden stroll.
His joyfulness, however, sours:
A mole is digging up the flowers.
He hurries off to fetch the hoe.
That old black burrower must go!
Instead of hit-or-miss aggression,
This problem calls for sly discretion.
Ah! Something's stirring in the patch,
And Knoll stands ready for the catch.
Take that! - And Knoll has missed his goal.
The hoe's asunder, not the mole.
The tool is mended without fail
By firmly wedging in a nail.
Again he's lurking, grave and bent,
Ignoring his environment.

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