The Beggar - Carl Spitteler

He was my foe, and friend he was to none.

I read his death, unmoved, but yesterday.

And then, last night, I saw him in a dream

Who wandered o'er a waste of barren moor

Alone, and there a beggar's bowl he rattled,

And came to me and spoke, while the bowl rattled —

     "A homeless waif and stray, a poor dead man

     Who now can do no harm to any man,

     Was looking for you, that old debt to pay —

     Drop a kind thought, Sir, in my bowl, I pray."

---

Carl Spitteler (1845 - 1924) Switzerland

Translated by Ethel Colburn Mayne

Source: Ross' Columns (taken from Selected Poems translated by Ethel Colburn Mayne and James F. Muirhead)