Der Leiermann (process experiments)

The Organ-Grinder (Der Leiermann) by Wilhelm Müller
translation by Barry Mitchell

Up behind the village

The organ grinder has his pitch

He stands barefoot or shuffles

On the frozen ground

With stiff fingers

He coaxes out the sound

His saucer is empty

Gifts for him are rare

No one listens to him

Or looks at him, or cares

Dogs snarl at him

Dogs chase him

But he wears a smile

He shows no fear or disappointment

But turns the handle round and round

Shall I join you on your journey?

Will you play the music to my songs?