Hans reitet troo de Nederland,
From Rotterdam below,
To Gravenhaag und Leyden
Und Haarlem - all a row;
He shtoodit in de galleries
A tausend works of art;
Boot ach - der Adriaan Brauwer,
Vent most teepest to his heart.
Und dus exglaim der Breitmann
In woonder-solemn shdrain,
'De cratest men vere Brauwer,
Van Ostade, und Jan Steen.
Der Raffael vas vel enof;
Dat ish in his shmall vay;
Boot - Gott im Himmel! - vot vas he
Coompared mit soosh as dey?
'Shoost see dat vight of troonken boors-
Von tears de oder's goat:
Vhile de oder mit a pointet knife
Ish goin for his troat.
Und a madchen mit a tree-leg shtuhl
Ish clip him on de het,
In dese higher human passion valks,
Der Raffael's coldt und deadt.
'De more ve digs into de eart'-
Or less ve seeks a star,-
De nearer ve to Natur coom,
More pantheistich far;
To him who reads dis myst'ry right,
Mit insbiration gifen,
Der Raffael's rollen in de dirt,
Vhile Brauwer soars to Heafen.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem