19. LAMENTATION OF AN OLD-GERMAN YOUTH.
Edgar Alfred Bowring translation
The man on whom virtue smiles is blest, He is lost who neglects her instructions; Poor youth that I am, I am ruin’d By evil companions’ seductions. For cards and dice soon dispossess’d My pockets of all their money; At first the maidens consoled me With smiles as luscious as honey. But when they had fuddled with wine their guest, And torn my garments, straightway (Poor youth that I am) they seized me, And bundled me out at the gateway. On waking after a bad night’s rest,— Sad end to all my ambition!— Poor youth that I am, I was filling At Cassel a sentry’s position.