Bilingual Heinrich Spoerl
Ionuţ Caraş, Dead clock being carted away
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Heinrich Christian Johann Spoerl was born in 1887 in Düsseldorf—where he was raised as the son of an engineer and factory owner—and where he also grew up. He studied jurisprudence and worked as a solicitor from 1919 till 1937 and from 1945 till 1948. He became a full-time writer in 1937. He died in Rottach-Egern, Bavaria in 1955.
Spoerl became known through his humorous novels, stories, and plays. His films include Wenn wir alle Engel wären (If we were all Angels), Der Maulkorb (The Muzzle), Der Gasmann (The Gas Man), and twice Die Feuerzangenbowle (The Red Wine Punch [a drink containing rum which has been set alight, usually served on New Year's Eve]), and Such a Lout. Many of Germany's top film stars played key roles in the film versions of his novels. Spoerl was married twice (1911 and 1915). His first wife died after two years. His second wife died in 1947. Their son Alexander Spoerl (*1917), an engineer and writer, died in 1978. |
Heinrich Spoerl, The Button: The Value of Waiting.
Der Knopf: Vom Wert des Wartens. Translated from the German by Henrik Eger
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English Translation: Once upon a time, there was a young farmer who wanted to meet the love of his life. He was an impatient fellow who arrived way too early for everything and couldn’t stand idly waiting around. In fact, he never even noticed the sunshine, let alone the beauty of spring and the splendor of the flowers. Frustrated, he threw himself under a tree and quarreled with himself and the world.
Suddenly, out of nowhere, a little gray troll appeared in front of him and said: “I know how to remove the thorn in your side. Take this button and sew it to your vest. Whenever you have to wait for something and time passes too slowly, simply turn the button to the right, and you will jump across time to wherever you want to be.” The young man took the magic button and turned it: and, lo and behold, there stood the love of his life who looked at him and smiled. He turned the button again, and there he sat with her at the wedding feast. He looked deep into the eyes of his young bride: If only we were alone . . . If only our new house were built . . . And again and again he turned the little button. Now all we need are our children, and he turned the button. His head filled with many more ideas and he simply couldn’t wait. And he turned the button and turned it so much so that his life raced by, and before he knew it, he had become an old man, lying on his death bed. And at that moment he realized that he had mismanaged his life. Now that his life had slipped away, he recognized that even waiting is worth living. And he wished he could turn back time. |
Deutsches Original: Es war einmal ein junger Bauer, der wollte seine Liebste treffen. Er war ein ungeduldiger Geselle und viel zu früh gekommen. Und verstand sich schlecht aufs Warten. Er sah nicht den Sonnenschein, nicht den Frühling und die Pracht der Blumen. Ungeduldig warf er sich unter einen Baum und haderte mit sich und der Welt.
Da stand plötzlich ein graues Männlein vor ihm und sagte: Ich weiß, wo dich der Schuh drückt. Nimm diesen Knopf und nähe ihn an dein Wams. Und wenn du auf etwas wartest und dir die Zeit zu langsam geht, dann brauchst du nur den Knopf nach rechts zu drehen, und du springst über die Zeit hinweg bis dahin, wo du willst. Er nahm den Zauberknopf und drehte: und schon stand die Liebste vor ihm und lachte ihn an. Er drehte abermals: Und saß mit ihr beim Hochzeitsschmaus. Da sah er seiner jungen Frau in die Augen: Wenn wir doch schon allein wären...Wenn unser neues Haus fertig wäre...Und er drehte immer wieder. Jetzt fehlen uns noch die Kinder und drehte schnell an dem Knopf. Dann kam ihm neues in den Sinn und konnte es nicht erwarten. Und drehte, drehte, daß das Leben an ihm vorbeisprang, und ehe er sich's versah, war er ein alter Mann und lag auf dem Sterbebett. Und merkte, daß er schlecht gewirtschaftet hatte. Nun, da sein Leben verrauscht war, erkannte er, daß auch das Warten des Lebens wert ist. Und er wünschte sich die Zeit zurück. Copyright Henrik Eger, 2008-2018 |
