Christian Fürchtegott Gellert (1715–1760)

IT happens that a man quite blind

A lame man on the street doth find.

With hope the blind man’s heart is gay:

There’s one to lead him on his way!

“I help you?” says the lame. “What talk!

Helpless myself, I cannot walk.

It seems, your healthy shoulders there

With ease a little load could bear.

Come, carry me upon your way;

Which path to follow, I shall say.

Your hardy foot my foot shall be,

And with my bright eye you shall see.”

The lame man with his crutch we find

Upon the broad back of the blind.

United they can do what one

Alone could nevermore have done.

What you have not, will be possessed

By others not with your gifts blessed.

And from such imperfection springs

The bond that men together brings.

Did not my neighbour lack the gift

That nature gave me in her thrift,

He, thinking of himself alone,

A care for me would scarce have known.

Vex not the gods with discontent:

The gift upon another spent

Shall truly be a common good,

If we but live in brotherhood.