FRANZ KAFKA The Hunter Gracchus
Two boys were sitting on the quay walls and played dice. A man reading a newspaper on the steps of a monument in the shadow of saber-wielding hero. A girl at the well filled water in their tub. A fruit seller was lying next to his wares, and looked out over the lake. In the depth of a bar you could see through the empty door and window holes, two men in the wine. The landlord was sitting in front of a table and fell asleep. A boat floated quietly, as they are worn over the water, in the small port. A man in a blue coat went on shore and pulled the ropes through the rings. Two other men in dark coats with silver buttons carried behind the boat man a stretcher on which was clearly under a great blumengernusterten, fringed silk scarf is a human.
On the Quai took care of no one at the new arrivals, even down presented as if the grave to wait for the boatman, who was still working on the ropes, went up no one, no one sent a message to them, nobody looked at more closely.
The leader was still held up somewhat by a woman, a child at her breast, with disheveled hair, was now on deck. Then he came, had a yellowish, two-story house that stood on the left near the water straight, the carrier took on the load and carried them through the low, but formed by slender columns goal. A little boy opened a window, remarked just how the troop disappeared into the house, and hastily closed the window again. Also, the gate was now closed, it was made of black oak together carefully. A flock of pigeons that had been flying around the bell tower, settled down now before the house. As if their food in the house kept the pigeons gathered at the gate. One flew up to the first floor and pecked at the window pane. There were bright colored well-kept, lively animals. threw them in the large momentum Women from the bark of grains through which they collected and then flew over to the woman.
A man in a top hat with a mourning band was one of the narrow, heavily sloping streets leading to the port down. He looked around carefully, all troubled him, the sight of debris at an angle it was distort the face. On the steps of the monument were fruit bowls, he pushed her down on the fly with his stick. At the office door he knocked on the door, while he took the hat with his black rights. DC was opened, probably fifty small boys formed a guard of honor in the long hallway transition and bowed. The skipper came down the stairs, greeted the Lord, led him upstairs, on the first floor, he treated him surrounded by lightly built and graceful loggias court and both occurred while the boys nachdrängten at a respectful distance, in a cool, large room at the back of the house, against which not a house, but could see only a bleak, gray-black wall of rock. The bearers were busy trying to establish some long head of the bier and candles to light, but light was thus not, there were literally scared the only previously dormant shadows and flickering on the walls. From the grave, the cloth was beaten back. There stood a man with wild hair and beard durcheinandergewachsenem, tanned Skin, such as resembling a hunter. He lay motionless and apparently breathless, his eyes closed, but only pointed to the environment that it was a dead man, perhaps.
The Lord came to the grave, put a hand to the man lying on the forehead, then knelt down and prayed. The skipper waved to the media to leave the room, she went out, drove the boys who had gathered outside, and closed the door. The Lord seemed to silence even these do not yet meet, he looked at the skipper, knew this and went through a side door into the next room. Immediately struck the man in the grave, the eyes, smiling painfully turned her face to the Lord and said, "Who are you "- The Lord rose up without another surprise from his kneeling position and replied,"? The mayor of Riva "
The man on the stretcher nodded showed that weak arm's successive chair and said, after the mayor followed his invitation. was: "l knew it, Mr. Mayor, but at first I always forget everything, everything I feel in the hand, and it is better, I ask, even if I know everything. Also, you probably know that I'm the hunter Gracchus. "
" Certainly, "said the mayor. "Do me this announced on the night. We slept long. Cried my midnight Woman: "Salvatore < — so heiße ich — > see the pigeon on the window! <> morning comes, the dead hunter Gracchus, receive it on behalf of the city. <«
The hunter nodded and pulled by the tip of the tongue between his lips, "Yes, the pigeons in front of me. Do you believe, however, Mr. Mayor, that I should stay in Riva? "
" I can not say yet, "replied the mayor. "Are you dead?"
Yes, "said the hunter," what you see. Many years ago, but there must never be mine many years, I crashed in the Black Forest - this is in Germany - from a rock when I was pursuing a chamois. Since then, I'm dead "
" But you are also alive, " said the mayor.
"In a way," said derJäger, "as it were I live. My death Kahn missed the trip, a wrong turn of the steering wheel, a moment of inattention of the driver, a distraction from my beautiful home, I do not know what it was, I only know that I stayed on the earth, and that my boat has since water travels on the ground. So I can travel, who wanted only to live in its mountains, after my death by all the earth. "
" And you have no part in the hereafter? "The mayor said, frowning.
"l am," replied derJäger, "always on the big Staircase that leads up. On this infinitely wide flight of steps I am doing around me, sometimes up, sometimes down, sometimes right, sometimes left, always in motion. The hunter has become a butterfly. Do not laugh. "
" l do not laugh, "protested to the mayor.
" very "reasonable," said the hunter. "Again, I'm moving. But if I take the greatest prosperity and lights above the door to me already, I wake up on my old, in any ground water desolate staked Kahn. The fundamental mistake of my erstwhile dying umgrinst me in my cabin. Julia, the wife of the coxswain knocks, and bring me to my grave the morning drink of the country of Coast, we are currently driving. I lie on a wooden bench and got - it's no fun to look at me - a dirty shroud of hair and beard, gray and black, goes through another inextricable, my legs are covered with a large silk, floral pattern and long fringes woman cloth. At my head there is a church candle and lit me. On the wall opposite me a small picture, a Bushman is apparently taking aim with a spear at me and behind a great painted cover plate as possible. We met some stupid images of ships, but this is one of the dumbest. Otherwise my wooden cage is completely empty. Through a hole in the side wall is the warm air of the southern Night and I hear the water at the old boat.
lying here since I was when I still alive hunter Gracchus, at home in the Black Forest was pursuing a chamois and crashed. Everything went according to the order. I followed crashed, bled to death in a ravine, was dead and this boat should carry me into the afterlife. I remember how happy I am here, stretched on the bed for the first time. Never have heard of me singing mountains such as these four walls was still dim.
I had enjoyed living and was happy to die, happy I threw before I entered the board, the riffraff of the gun, the pocket of a hunting rifle in front of me down, I always prided had taken, and I slipped into the shroud as a girl to the wedding dress. Here I lay and waited. Then the accident happened. "
" A terrible fate, the mayor said with a raised hand defensively. "And you have no guilt about it?" No, "said the hunter," I was a hunter, which is about a debt? Situated as I was hunting in the Black Forest, where there were still wolves at that time. I was lurking on, shot, hit, pulled off the coat, which is a liability? My work was blessed. > The great hunters from the Black Forest < hieß ich. Ist das eine Schuld?«
"I'm not called the" decide, "said the mayor," seems to me no Debt to lie in it. But because of who bears the blame? "
" The boatswain said the hunter. "No one will read what I write here, no one will come to help me, would be set as a task to help me, so all the doors of the houses remained closed all the windows closed, all lie in the bed, hit the ceiling over your head , a night hostel the whole earth. This has good sense, because no one knows about me, and he knew of me, and he knew my stay not, and he knew my stay, so he knew me not there to hold, so he did not know how to help me. The thought of wanting to help me is a disease and must be cured in bed.
know I cry and not, therefore, to summon help, even if I, in moments - no, there I am, for example, right now - think very highly of it. But suffice it to expel such thoughts when I look around and come to realize where I am and - I dare say -. I live for centuries, "
" Extraordinary, "the mayor said," extraordinary. - And now you intend to stay with us in Riva "
" I remember, "said derJäger smiling and set out to repair the scorn, the hand on the knee of the mayor. I'm here, more I do not know, I can not do more. My boat has no control, he rides the wind that blows in the lower regions of death. "
Two boys were sitting on the quay walls and played dice. A man reading a newspaper on the steps of a monument in the shadow of saber-wielding hero. A girl at the well filled water in their tub. A fruit seller was lying next to his wares, and looked out over the lake. In the depth of a bar you could see through the empty door and window holes, two men in the wine. The landlord was sitting in front of a table and fell asleep. A boat floated quietly, as they are worn over the water, in the small port. A man in a blue coat went on shore and pulled the ropes through the rings. Two other men in dark coats with silver buttons carried behind the boat man a stretcher on which was clearly under a great blumengernusterten, fringed silk scarf is a human.
On the Quai took care of no one at the new arrivals, even down presented as if the grave to wait for the boatman, who was still working on the ropes, went up no one, no one sent a message to them, nobody looked at more closely.
The leader was still held up somewhat by a woman, a child at her breast, with disheveled hair, was now on deck. Then he came, had a yellowish, two-story house that stood on the left near the water straight, the carrier took on the load and carried them through the low, but formed by slender columns goal. A little boy opened a window, remarked just how the troop disappeared into the house, and hastily closed the window again. Also, the gate was now closed, it was made of black oak together carefully. A flock of pigeons that had been flying around the bell tower, settled down now before the house. As if their food in the house kept the pigeons gathered at the gate. One flew up to the first floor and pecked at the window pane. There were bright colored well-kept, lively animals. threw them in the large momentum Women from the bark of grains through which they collected and then flew over to the woman.
A man in a top hat with a mourning band was one of the narrow, heavily sloping streets leading to the port down. He looked around carefully, all troubled him, the sight of debris at an angle it was distort the face. On the steps of the monument were fruit bowls, he pushed her down on the fly with his stick. At the office door he knocked on the door, while he took the hat with his black rights. DC was opened, probably fifty small boys formed a guard of honor in the long hallway transition and bowed. The skipper came down the stairs, greeted the Lord, led him upstairs, on the first floor, he treated him surrounded by lightly built and graceful loggias court and both occurred while the boys nachdrängten at a respectful distance, in a cool, large room at the back of the house, against which not a house, but could see only a bleak, gray-black wall of rock. The bearers were busy trying to establish some long head of the bier and candles to light, but light was thus not, there were literally scared the only previously dormant shadows and flickering on the walls. From the grave, the cloth was beaten back. There stood a man with wild hair and beard durcheinandergewachsenem, tanned Skin, such as resembling a hunter. He lay motionless and apparently breathless, his eyes closed, but only pointed to the environment that it was a dead man, perhaps.
The Lord came to the grave, put a hand to the man lying on the forehead, then knelt down and prayed. The skipper waved to the media to leave the room, she went out, drove the boys who had gathered outside, and closed the door. The Lord seemed to silence even these do not yet meet, he looked at the skipper, knew this and went through a side door into the next room. Immediately struck the man in the grave, the eyes, smiling painfully turned her face to the Lord and said, "Who are you "- The Lord rose up without another surprise from his kneeling position and replied,"? The mayor of Riva "
The man on the stretcher nodded showed that weak arm's successive chair and said, after the mayor followed his invitation. was: "l knew it, Mr. Mayor, but at first I always forget everything, everything I feel in the hand, and it is better, I ask, even if I know everything. Also, you probably know that I'm the hunter Gracchus. "
" Certainly, "said the mayor. "Do me this announced on the night. We slept long. Cried my midnight Woman: "Salvatore < — so heiße ich — > see the pigeon on the window! <> morning comes, the dead hunter Gracchus, receive it on behalf of the city. <«
The hunter nodded and pulled by the tip of the tongue between his lips, "Yes, the pigeons in front of me. Do you believe, however, Mr. Mayor, that I should stay in Riva? "
" I can not say yet, "replied the mayor. "Are you dead?"
Yes, "said the hunter," what you see. Many years ago, but there must never be mine many years, I crashed in the Black Forest - this is in Germany - from a rock when I was pursuing a chamois. Since then, I'm dead "
" But you are also alive, " said the mayor.
"In a way," said derJäger, "as it were I live. My death Kahn missed the trip, a wrong turn of the steering wheel, a moment of inattention of the driver, a distraction from my beautiful home, I do not know what it was, I only know that I stayed on the earth, and that my boat has since water travels on the ground. So I can travel, who wanted only to live in its mountains, after my death by all the earth. "
" And you have no part in the hereafter? "The mayor said, frowning.
"l am," replied derJäger, "always on the big Staircase that leads up. On this infinitely wide flight of steps I am doing around me, sometimes up, sometimes down, sometimes right, sometimes left, always in motion. The hunter has become a butterfly. Do not laugh. "
" l do not laugh, "protested to the mayor.
" very "reasonable," said the hunter. "Again, I'm moving. But if I take the greatest prosperity and lights above the door to me already, I wake up on my old, in any ground water desolate staked Kahn. The fundamental mistake of my erstwhile dying umgrinst me in my cabin. Julia, the wife of the coxswain knocks, and bring me to my grave the morning drink of the country of Coast, we are currently driving. I lie on a wooden bench and got - it's no fun to look at me - a dirty shroud of hair and beard, gray and black, goes through another inextricable, my legs are covered with a large silk, floral pattern and long fringes woman cloth. At my head there is a church candle and lit me. On the wall opposite me a small picture, a Bushman is apparently taking aim with a spear at me and behind a great painted cover plate as possible. We met some stupid images of ships, but this is one of the dumbest. Otherwise my wooden cage is completely empty. Through a hole in the side wall is the warm air of the southern Night and I hear the water at the old boat.
lying here since I was when I still alive hunter Gracchus, at home in the Black Forest was pursuing a chamois and crashed. Everything went according to the order. I followed crashed, bled to death in a ravine, was dead and this boat should carry me into the afterlife. I remember how happy I am here, stretched on the bed for the first time. Never have heard of me singing mountains such as these four walls was still dim.
I had enjoyed living and was happy to die, happy I threw before I entered the board, the riffraff of the gun, the pocket of a hunting rifle in front of me down, I always prided had taken, and I slipped into the shroud as a girl to the wedding dress. Here I lay and waited. Then the accident happened. "
" A terrible fate, the mayor said with a raised hand defensively. "And you have no guilt about it?" No, "said the hunter," I was a hunter, which is about a debt? Situated as I was hunting in the Black Forest, where there were still wolves at that time. I was lurking on, shot, hit, pulled off the coat, which is a liability? My work was blessed. > The great hunters from the Black Forest < hieß ich. Ist das eine Schuld?«
"I'm not called the" decide, "said the mayor," seems to me no Debt to lie in it. But because of who bears the blame? "
" The boatswain said the hunter. "No one will read what I write here, no one will come to help me, would be set as a task to help me, so all the doors of the houses remained closed all the windows closed, all lie in the bed, hit the ceiling over your head , a night hostel the whole earth. This has good sense, because no one knows about me, and he knew of me, and he knew my stay not, and he knew my stay, so he knew me not there to hold, so he did not know how to help me. The thought of wanting to help me is a disease and must be cured in bed.
know I cry and not, therefore, to summon help, even if I, in moments - no, there I am, for example, right now - think very highly of it. But suffice it to expel such thoughts when I look around and come to realize where I am and - I dare say -. I live for centuries, "
" Extraordinary, "the mayor said," extraordinary. - And now you intend to stay with us in Riva "
" I remember, "said derJäger smiling and set out to repair the scorn, the hand on the knee of the mayor. I'm here, more I do not know, I can not do more. My boat has no control, he rides the wind that blows in the lower regions of death. "
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