Boy, those Germans have a word for everything!
We mortals hear only the news, and know nothing at all.
I too shall lie in the dust when I am dead, but now let me win noble renown.
The leader, mingling with the vulgar host, Is in the common mass of matter lost.
Like leaves on trees the race of man is found,- Now green in youth, now withering on the ground; Another race the following spring supplies: They fall successive, and successive rise.
A guest never forgets the host who has treated him kindly.