Das war der Zwerg Perkeo im Heidelberger Schloss,
An Wuchse klein und winzig, an Durste riesengross.
It was the dwarf Perkeo, in Heidelberg of old,
A wretched mite in stature, in thirst a giant bold.
When for a fool they jeered him: 'Good people mine,' said he,
'Would you were all wet-jolly, and fond of fun like me.'
But when the Tun of Heidelberg was filled with wine one year,
Then all his future standpoint unto the dwarf was clear.
'Farewell,' said he, 'oh, world, thou vale of miser-misery.
All things men turn their hand to is tout egal to me.
'For wooden, stupid notions full many heats are broke,
And what it all amounts to is dust and steam and smoke.
''Tis all in vino veritas. In drinking, from this day,
Will I, the tough old jester, pass all my life away.'
Perkeo sought the cellar, and forth no more came he,
For fifteen years deep drinking at Rhenish Malvasie.
Though all was dark around him, an inner radiance rained;
And though his legs went shaking, he drank and ne'er complained.
When first he sought the wine-vat 'twas heavy, full, and high;
But in his dying moments it rang empty, dull, and dry.
Then piously he uttered: 'Now praise the Lord at length,
Who in me, a weak mannikin, has shown such wondrous strength!
'As once in triumph David against Goliath stood,
So I, the little dwarflet, the giant Thirst subdued.
'Now sing a De profundis until the vault groans round.
The Tun is fairly done for. I fall with vict'ry crowned.'
And in the vault they laid him. Around his cellar-grave,
And from the empty wine-vat, as yet damp vapours wave.
And who, as pious pilgrim, has early sought that shrine,
Woe to him! In the evening he goes howling round in wine.