Knut Hamsun Hunger Quotes

...I will exile my thoughts if they think of you again, and I will rip my lips out if they say your name once more. Now if you do exist, I will tell you my final word in life or in death, I tell you goodbye.

Truth is neither ojectivity nor the balanced view; truth is a selfless subjectivity.

Keep it, keep it!" I answered. "You are very welcome to it! It is only a couple of small things, doesn't amount to anything—about everything I own in the world.

I suffered no pain, my hunger had taken the edge off; instead I felt pleasantly empty, untouched by everything around me and happy to be unseen by all. I put my legs up on the bench and leaned back, the best way to feel the true well-being of seclusion. There wasn't a cloud in my mind, nor did I feel any discomfort, and I hadn't a single unfulfilled desire or craving as far as my thought could reach. I lay with open eyes in a state of utter absence from myself and felt deliciously out of it.

I was on the verge of crying with grief at still being alive.

The intelligent poor individual was a much finer observer than the intelligent rich one. The poor individual looks around him at every step, listens suspiciously to every word he hears from the people he meets; thus, every step he takes presents a problem, a task, for his thoughts and feelings. He is alert and sensitive, he is experienced, his soul has been burned...

It was not my intention to collapse; no, I would die standing.

I see stars before my eyes, and my thoughts are swept up into a hurricane of light.

And the great spirit of darkness spread a shroud over me...everything was silent-everything. But upon the heights soughed the everlasting song, the voice of the air, the distant, toneless humming which is never silent.

Small jerks began to appear in my legs, my walk became unsteady precisely because I wanted it to be smooth.

The heavy red roses smoldering in the foggy morning, blood-colored and uninhibited, made me greedy, and tempted me powerfully to steal one--I asked the prices merely so I could come as near them as possible.

I was conscious all the time that I was following mad whims without being able to do anything about it … . Despite my alienation from myself at that moment, and even though I was nothing but a battleground for invisible forces, I was aware of every detail of what was going on around me.

I felt pleasantly empty, untouched by everything around me and happy to be unseen by all.

أنت فقير لدرجة لا تسمح لك بوجود الضمير, أنت جوعان

I'll exile my thoughts if they think of you again, and I will rip my lips out if they say your name once more. Now if you do exist, I will tell you my final word in life or in death, I tell you goodbye.

سأقول لك شيئاً واحداً يا إلهي الطيّب, يكفي هذا!

إنني منارة بيضاء في وسط بحر الإنسانية العكر

The dark monsters out there would suck me up when night came on, and they would carry me far across the sea and through strange lands where no humans lived.

A country preacher could not have looked more full of milk and honey than this formidable writer, whose words had always left long bloody marks wherever they fell.

A swarm of tiny noxious animals had bored a way into my inner man and hollowed me out.

Well, bless my soul, what stupid creatures one has to mix with in this world!

My head was emptying and emptying, and in the end it sat light and void on my shoulders. I percieved this gaping emptiness in my head with my whole body, I felt hollowed out from top to toe.

I would be beholden to no man, not even for a blanket.

No matter how much I kept telling myself that I was behaving like an idiot, it was no use.

When I got outside, I came to a standstill and said loudly in the open street, as I clenched my hands: ”I will tell you one thing, my good Lord God, you are a bungler!” and I nod furiously, with set teeth, up to the clouds; ”I will be hanged if you are not a bungler.

The ships whose masts I saw outlined against the sky looked, with their black hulls, like silent monsters that were raising their hackles and lying in wait for me.

يا إلهي! ما أظلم الدنيا أمام عينيّ الأن! ولكن لم تدمع لي عين , فقد كنت أشد تعبا من أن أقدر على البكاء.

ووقفت موقف الشجاعة حتى لا أزل عن موقفي , فإني لم أشأ أن أخرّ على الأرض صريعا , بل أردت أن ألفظ النفس الأخير واقفا.

God had poked His finger down into my nerves and gently, almost without thinking, brought a little confusion among those threads. And God had pulled His finger back, and behold--there were filaments and fine rootlike threads on His finger from the threads of my nerves. And there remained an open hole behind His finger which was the finger of God, and a wound in my brain behind the path of His finger. But after God had touched me with the finger of His hand, He let me be and touched me no more and let nothing evil come upon me. He let me depart in peace and He let me depart with the open hole. And nothing evil will come upon me from God who is the Lord through all Eternity....

Yoksul aydın, zengin aydından çok daha kuvvetli görür.(s.128)

- وعاد التفكير في الله يشغل وقتي , فوجدت أنه ليس من الرحمة أن تسد وجوه الحياة أمامي. فيقضى علي بالخيبة في كل مرة أبحث فيها عن وظيفة بل عن قوت يوم أطمع فيه.

و الواقع أن الانسان لا يكون مسؤولا عن خواطر مبهمة عابرة ولا سيما إذا كان مصابا بدوار فظيع وهو على وشك الهلاك , يجر ملحفة تخص غيره

- إنه لجحيم أن يتحرك المرء يشوهه الجوع حيا

- و لقد كان رجوعي شيئا مزريا , ولكن ما العمل؟ ... لم يبق لديّ ذرة من الكرامة , و حقّ لي أن أقول دون أن يكون في قولي شيئا من المبالغة: أني أقلّ الناس كبرياء" في زماننا.

God be praised, I had raised myself in my own estimation again!

لما خرجت وقفت في وسط الطريق وقلت بصوت عال وقد كورت يدي: "شيء واحد أريد أن أقوله لك يا مولاي العزيز ويا إلهي، أنت فاجر بلا حياء!" وصرفت بأسناني هائجاً ثائراً ووجهي إلى السماء: "ليأخني الشيطان إن لم تكن فاجراً بلا حياء!".

There was a merciless gnawing in my chest, a queer silent labor was going on in there. I pictured a score of nice teeny-weeny animals that cocked their heads to one side and gnawed a bit, then cocked their heads to the other side and gnawed a bit, lay perfectly still for a moment, then began anew and bored their way in without a sound and without haste, leaving empty stretches behind them wherever they went.

Out in the fjord I dragged myself up at once, wet with fever and exhaustion, and gazed landwards, and bade farewell for the present to the town – to Christiania, where the windows gleamed so brightly in all the homes.

I sat looking at her with rapt attention. My heart was thumping, the blood coursing warmly through my veins. What a wonderful pleasure to be sitting in a human dwelling again, hear a clock ticking, and talk with a lively young girl instead of with myself! Why don't you say something?" Ah, how sweet you are!" I said. "I'm sitting here getting fascinated by you, at this moment I'm thoroughly fascinated. I can't help it. You are the strangest person that... Sometimes your eyes are so radiant, I've never seen anything like it, they look like flowers. Eh? No, no, maybe not like flowers but... I'm madly in love with you, and it won't do me a bit of good. What's your name? Really, you must tell me what your name is..." No, what's your name? Goodness, I almost forgot again! I was thinking all day yesterday that I must ask you. Well, that is, not all day yesterday, I certainly didn't think about you all day yesterday." Do you know what I've called you? I have called you Ylajali. How do you like it? Such a gliding sound-" Ylajali?" Yes." Is it a foreign language?" Hmm. No, it's not." Well, it isn't ugly.

I lay with open eyes in a state of utter absence from myself and felt deliciously out of it.

كذبت بعينين مفتوحتين لا يطرف لهما طرف , كذبت بإخلاص.

أنّى لإنسان أن يحتفظ بشجاعته إذا كانت الحياة قد حطمته مثل هذا التحطيم؟

At that moment not a single sad thought entered my mind; I forgot my privation and felt soothed by the sight of the harbour, which lay there lovely and peaceful in the semi-darkness.

I tell you, you Heaven's Holy Baal, you don't exist; but that, if you did, I would curse you so that your Heaven would quiver with the fire of hell! I tell you, I have offered you my service, and you repulsed me; and I turn my back on you for all eternity, because you did not know your time of visitation! I tell you that I am about to die, and yet I mock you! You Heaven God and Apis! with death staring me in the face - I tell you, I would rather be a bondsman in hell than a freedman in your mansions! I tell you, I am filled with a blissful contempt for your divine paltriness; and I choose the abyss of destruction for a perpetual resort, where the devils Judas and Pharaoh are cast down!

I began running so as to punish myself, left street after street behind me, pushed myself on with inward jeers, and screeched silently and furiously at myself whenever I felt like stopping. With the help of these exertions I ended up far along Pile Street. When I finally did stop, almost weeping with anger that I couldn’t run any farther, my whole body trembled, and I threw myself down on a house stoop. “Not so fast!” I said. And to torture myself right, I stood up again and forced myself to stand there, laughing at myself and gloating over my own fatigue. Finally, after a few minutes I nodded and so gave myself permission to sit down; however, I chose the most uncomfortable spot on the stoop.

هذا هو مسلك الشرف في الحياة الدنيا ! لا كلام و لا حديث مع حثالة الناس. بل تغضين الورقة المالية العظيمة بكل هدوء . ثم إلقاؤها في وجه الملحين الجفاة .... هذا هو التصرف بمقتضى الكرامة! و كذا يلزم أن يعامل الإنسان الوحوش.

Fall has arrived and has already begun to put everything into a deep sleep; flies and other insects have suffered their first setback, and up in the trees and down on the ground you can hear the sounds of struggling life, puttering , ceaselessly rustling, laboring not to perish.

During those days, both the bed and my little rickety table were swimming in notes and scribbled-over manuscripts that I took turns working on, adding new ideas that occurred to me in the course of the day, crossing out material or freshening up the dead passages with a lively word here or there, and pushing on from sentence to sentence with great labor.

There wasn't a cloud in my mind, nor did I feel any discomfort, and I hadn't a single unfulfilled desire or craving as far as my thoughts could reach.

قد يموت الشخص من فرط الزهو...

The sad rocking chair in the corner was actually a joke of a chair: if one started laughing at it, one could die laughing. It was too low for a grown man, and besides, it was so tight, one needed a shoehorn to get back out of it. In short, this room was simply not furnished in a way appropriate to intellectual effort, and I did not intend to keep it any longer.

She came quickly over to me and held out her hand. I looked at her full of distrust. Was she doing this freely, with a light heart? Or was she doing it just to get rid of me? She put her arm around my neck, tears in her eyes. I just stood and looked at her. She offered me her mouth but I couldn't believe her, it was bound to be a sacrifice on her part, a means of getting it over with. She said something, it sounded to me like "I love you anyway!" She said it very softly and indistinctly, I may not have heard it correctly, perhaps she didn't say exactly those words. But she threw herself passionately on my neck, held both arms around my neck a little while, even raised herself on tiptoe to reach well up, and stood thus. Afraid that she was forcing herself to show me this tenderness, I merely said "How beautiful you are now!" That was all I said. I stepped back, bumped against the door and walked out backward. She was left standing inside.

Some flies and gnats were sitting on my paper and this disturbed me; I breathed on them to make them go, then blew harder and harder, but it did no good. The tiny beasts lowered their behinds, made themselves heavy, and struggled against the wind until their thin legs were bent. They were absolutely not going to leave the place. They would always find something to get hold of, bracing their heels against a comma or an unevenness in the paper, and they intended to stay exactly where they were until they themselves decided it was the right time to go.

- ولكن كان واضحا أنها لم تؤمن مرة واحدة بمقالي هذا و قد لاحظت ذلك صريحا في عينيها , ولم يكن في إمكاني أن أحافظ على كبريائي و أترك الدار لمجرد أني أوذيت بعض الإيذاء في كرامتي , فقد كنت أعلم ما ينتظرني إذا أنا خرجت.

فأخذت أكلم نفسي همسا , فيم كل هذا الاهتمام بما عساي آكله . وبما عساي أشربه و بما عساي أكسو به جعبة الحشرات الحقيرة التي اسمها جسدي الفاني؟ أو ليس الله رب السماوات و الأرض يرزقني كما يرزق الطير في الجو؟ ...فكم من مرة تركني أغدو وأروح في أمن؟ ... أسير ولم ينزل بي مكروها؟ ... هو الله السرمدي.

Foul places began to gather in my inner being, black spores which spread more and more. And up in Heaven God Almighty sat and kept a watchful eye on me, and took heed that my destruction proceeded in accordance with all the rules of art, uniformly and gradually, without a break in the measure.

I imagined I had discovered a new word. I rise up in bed and say, "It is not in the language; I have discovered it. 'Kuboa.' It has letters as a word has. By the benign God, Man you have discovered a word!... 'Kuboa' ... a word of profound import. [...] Some minutes pass over, and I wax nervous; this new word torments me unceasingly, returns again and again, takes up my thoughts, and makes me serious. I had fully formed an opinion as to what it should not signify, but had come to no conclusion as to what it should signify. [...] Then it seems to me that some one is interposing, interrupting my confab. I answer angrily, "Beg pardon! You match in idiocy is not to be found; no, sir! Knitting cotton? Ah! go to hell!" Well, really I had to laugh. Might I ask why should I be forced to let it signify knitting cotton, when I had a special dislike to its signifying knitting cotton?

- إنني الأن أتضور جوعا . فتتعقد أمعائي في داخلي و تتلوى كالأفعى , ولا أرى أنه كتب علي أن أذوق لقمة واحدة قبل أن ينصرم هذا النهار. و قد كنت كلما طال علي هذا أزداد خفة غي عقلي و جسمي , حتى أخذت أسف بالتدريج يوما بعد يوم , فكذبت بدون أن يعتريني الخجل , و خدعت أناسا فقراء من أجل كراء الغرفة , وكافحت بذهنية حقيرة لأغتصب ملحفة أحد الناس . كل هذا بدون أن أشعر بندم أو توبيخ ضمير !

جلست في المقعد أقلب التفكير في كل هذا , فزاد حنقي على الخالق بسبب تعذيبه المستمر لي. فلئن كان يحسب أنه بإيلامي ووضعه العقبات في طريقي يجذبني إلى حظيرته و يصلحني , فإني أستطيع أن أؤكد له أنه أخطأ في التقدير ! ثم تطلعت إلى السماء و أنا أكاد أبكي من هذا التحدي . لقد قلت له هذا بهدوء في ضميري للمرة الأولى و الأخيرة.

I lie and repeat these words over to myself, and find that they are capital. Little by little others come and fit themselves to the preceding ones. I grow keenly wakeful. I get up and snatch paper and pencil from the table behind my bed. It was as if a vein had burst in me ; one word follows another, and they fit themselves together harmoniously with telling effect. Scenes piles on scene, actions and speeches bubble up in my brain, and a wonderful sense of pleasure empowers me. I write as one possessed, and fill page after page without a moment’s pause

I was fading helplessly away with open eyes, staring straight at the ceiling. Finally I stuck my forefinger in my mouth and took to sucking on it. Something began stirring in my brain, some thought in there scrabbling to get out, a stark-staring mad idea: What if I get a bite? And without a moment’s hesitation I squeezed my eyes shut and clenched my teeth together. I jumped up. I was finally awake. A little blood trickled from my finger, and I licked it off as it came. It didn’t hurt, the wound was nothing really, but I was at once brought back to my sense. I shook my head, went over to the window and found a rag for the wound. While I was fiddling with this, my eyes filled with water --- I wept softly to myself. The skinny lacerated finger looked so sad. God in heaven, to what extremity I had come!

- لم أتلفظ بلفظ واحد. وأي لفظ كان يجب عليّ أن أقوله؟ ألم يكن شتاء" في الخارج؟ و فوق ذلك فقد أسدل الليل ستاره! أترى هذا هو الوقت المناسب لأضرب بيدي على المائدة ولأحتج بشدة؟ كل شيء إلا هذه السخافة! و بقيت ساكنا. و لم أغادر الدار ولا استحييت من البقاء , لا ولا احمرّ وجهي لحظة واحدة من الخجل بالرغم من أن الجماعة طردوني أو كادوا ... .

I had no pain--my hunger had taken the edge off it. In its stead I felt pleasantly empty, untouched by everything around me, and glad not to be noticed by any one. I put my feet up on the seat and leant back. Thus I could best appreciate the well-being of perfect isolation. There was not a cloud on my mind, not a feeling of discomfort, and so far as my thought reached, I had not a whim, not a desire unsatisfied. I lay with open eyes, in a state of utter absence of mind. I felt myself charmed away.

A tamo,na nebesima,sedeo je Bog i nije odvajao pogled od mene,pazio je da se moja propast odvija po svim pravilima umetnosti,ravnomerno i polako,ne izlazeci iz ritma.A u ponorima pakla djavoli se ljute sto se toliko dugo opirem da izvrsim neki veliki zlocin,neki neoprostiv greh za koji bi me Gospod u svojoj pravednosti bacio u bezdan...

Wild ideas popped up again in my head. What if I quietly went over and cut off the mooring ropes on one of the ships? What if I suddenly cried fire?

It is a splendid thing to exist sometimes.

All I was capable of, even deep in misery, was rhetoric and belles-lettres, it was all talk.

And looking at animals in cages doesn't interest me in general. They know we are standing there looking at them–they sense the hundreds of inquisitive looks, and it has an effect on them.

إنها لحسرة و تعاسة لا نظير لهما أن تكون محروما هكذا! فيالها من ذلة! و يالها من فضيحة! وعدت ففكرت في أني لن أتورع عن سرقة آخر فلس تملكه أرملة فقيرة , ولن أتعفف عن قبعة أحد التلامذة أو منديله أو جراب بعض الشحاذين.

الواقع أن الحياة على مثل هذه الحال سخافة , وإني لا أتصور ما أستحق عليه كل هذه الآلام المصبوبة علي! و خطر في ذهني فجأة أنه ربما كان من المناسب أن أنقلب شريرا, فأذهب بالملحفة إلى دار الرهون ... وأما هانس بولي فسألفق له أي شيء . ووجدتني في طريقي إلى هناك . و لكني توقفت عند المدخل و هززت رأسي مترددا . ثم عدت أدراجي. 15- ومع كل خطوة أبتعدها كان يتضاعف سروري , لانتصاري على هذه الفتنة الشديدة . و تصاعد الإحساس في رأسي بأني رجل شريف فأنعم على نفسي بشعور جليل أنني على خلق ... أنني منارة بيضاء في وسط بحر الإنسانية العكر , بين الحطام و البقايا العائمة.

I opened my eyes; how could I keep them shut when I could not sleep? The same darkness brooded over me; the same unfathomable black eternity which my thoughts strove against and could not understand. I made the most despairing efforts to find a word black enough to characterize this darkness; a word so horribly black that it would darken my lips if I named it. Lord! how dark it was! and I am carried back in thought to the sea and the dark monsters that lay in wait for me. They would draw me to them, and clutch me tightly and bear me away by land and sea, through dark realms that no soul has seen. I feel myself on board, drawn through waters, hovering in clouds, sinking--sinking.

Then we were at the fountain - we stop and look up at the many illuminated windows of number 2. "This is as far as you can walk me," she says. "Thanks for taking me home." I bowed, not daring to say a word. I doffed my hat and stood bareheaded. I wondered if she would give me her hand. "Why don't you ask me to walk back with you part of the way?" She says playfully. But she looks down at the tip of her shoe. "Gee," I answer, "if only you would!" "Sure, but only a little way." And we turned around. I was utterly bewildered, I didn't know which way was up anymore; this person turned all my thinking topsy-turvy. I was enchanted, wonderfully glad; I felt as though I were dying from happiness. She had expressly wanted to go back with me, it wasn't my idea, it was her own wish. I gaze and gaze at her, growing more and more cocky, and she encourages me, drawing me toward her by every word she speaks. I forget for a moment my poverty, my humble self, my whole miserable existence, I feel the blood coursing warmly through my body as in the old days, before I broke down.

- فانسحبت مريضا من الجوع , حران من الخجل . لقد صار مني كلب من أجل عظمة حقيرة , و مع ذلك لم أصل إليها . لا , لابد من وضع حد لهذا! فالحق أن الأمور قد سارت بعيدا , لقد ضبطت نفسي سنينا طوالا , و ثبتّ في الساعات الشداد , وهأنذا الأن قد انحدرت دفعة واحدة إلى هاوية الشحاذة القاسية. 26-إن هذا اليوم قد زلزل أفكاري و سخم نفسي بالقحة , فلم أخجل من إذلال نفسي أمام صغار الباعة , فأعرض نفسي أمامهم و أبكي. و أي فائدة عادت عليّ من ذلك؟ أفلم أزل بدون كسرة خبز أستطيع دسها في فمي؟ و كل ما بلغته أني أصبحت أتقزز من نفسي! نعم نعم , الأن لابد من وضع حد لهذا.

Jeg har aldri i mitt liv skrevet "slibrig"; men jeg kunne gi anvisning på dristigere ting i mine bøker enn hva som stod i den tyske fortelling. De er å finne f.eks. både i "Sult" og "Pan". Men når Jacob Sverdrup leser over igjen disse steder og forarges, så vil jeg også be ham lese f.eks. Ibsens "Lille Eyolf" påny. Den lille nydelige, senile råhet, champagnen som ei ble rørt, bør han virkelig nippe til. Og huske. Og bruke.

I had noticed very clearly that every time I went hungry a little too long it was as though my brains simply ran quietly out of my head and left me empty. My head became light and floating. I could no longer feel its weight on my shoulders, and I had the sense that my eyes were remaining far too open when I looked at anything.

I was seized with bitterness, and wept as I went along the street. . . . I cursed the cruel powers, whoever they might be, that persecuted me so, consigned them to hell's damnation and eternal torments for their petty persecution. There was but little chivalry in fate, really little enough chivalry; one was forced to admit that.

Digo-te, ó sagrado Baal do céu, que não existes. Mas, se existisses, eu te amaldiçoaria de tal modo que esse teu céu palpitaria com o fogo do inferno. Em verdade te digo: ofereci-te meus serviços e tu os recusaste; repeliste-me, e hoje eu te viro as costas para sempre, pois nunca soubeste conhecer a hora da Visitação. Em verdade te digo: sei que vou morrer, e, não obstante, com a morte diante dos olhos, eu te desprezo, ó celeste Ápis. Empregaste contra mim a força, e não sabes que jamais me dobrei perante a adversidade. Pois deverias sabê-lo. Por acaso dormias quando plasmaste meu coração? Em verdade te digo: durante toda a vida, cada gota de sangue em minhas veias sentirá alegria em desprezar-te e escarnecer de tua Graça. A partir deste momento, renuncio a ti, a tuas pompas e tuas obras; lançarei o anátema sobre meu pensamento, se jamais ele te pensar; arrancarei os lábios se jamais eles pronunciarem teu nome. Se existires, digo-te a última palavra da vida e da morte: digo-te adeus. Depois, calo-me, viro-te as costas e sigo meu caminho.

I had become, as it were, too languid to control or lead myself whither I would go. A swarm of tiny noxious animals had bored a way into my inner man and hollowed me out.

How steadily my predicament had gotten worse! By now I was so utterly denuded of objects that I didn’t even have a comb left, or a book to read when I felt hopeless.

Gemi leşlerinin yüzdüğü bulanık insanlık denizinde bembeyaz bir fenerdim ben.

Vicdan ancak dans hocası Shakespeare tarafından icat edilmişti

dilsiz ve bitkindi benim kahkaham ağlamak özlemi taşıyordu

Mənə elə gəlir ki, insan dəli olmasa da həssas olmalıdır; elə adamlar var ki, ən xırda şeylərə belə reaksiya verirlər, onları kəskin deyilmiş bir sözlə də öldürmək mümkündür.

My whole consciousness underwent some change, a tissue in my brain parted.

It was in those days when I wandered about hungry in Kristiania, that strange city which no one leaves before it has set its mark upon him. . . .

I lay a while gazing into the darkness, this dense mass of gloom that had no bottom--my thoughts could not fathom it.

Ne işti bu! Bir beygir gibi, ha babam, kendimi zorlamış, gece gündüz, gözlerim önüme akıncaya kadar okumuş, çalışmış, beynimdeki zekayı açlıklara akıtmıştım!

...As I lie there in this position, letting my eyes wander down my breast and legs, I notice the twitching motion made by my foot at each beat of my pulse. I sit up halfway and look down at my feet, and at this moment I experience a fantastic, alien state I’d never felt before; a delicate, mysterious thrill spreads through my nerves, as though they were flooded by surges of light. When I looked at my shoes, it was as though I had met a good friend or got back a torn-off part of me: a feeling of recognition trembles through all my sense, tears spring to my eyes, and I perceive my shoes as a softly murmuring tune coming toward me. Weakness! I said harshly to myself, and I clenched my fists and said: Weakness. I mocked myself for these ridiculous feelings, made fun of myself quite consciously; I spoke very sternly and reasonably, and I fiercely squeezed my eyes shut to get rid of my tears. Then I begin, as though I’d never seen my shoes before, to study their appearance, their mimicry when I move my feet, their shape and the worn uppers, and I discover that their wrinkles and their white seams give them an expression, lend them a physiognomy. Something of my own nature had entered into these shoes --- they affected me like a breath upon my being, a living, a breathing part of me…

How gaily and lightly these people I met carried their radiant heads, and swung themselves through life as through a ball-room! There was no sorrow in a single look I met, no burden on any shoulder, perhaps not even a clouded thought, not a little hidden pain in any of the happy souls. And I, walking in the very midst of these people, young and newly-fledged as I was, had already forgotten the very look of happiness. I hugged these thoughts to myself as I went on, and found that a great injustice had been done me. Why had the last months pressed so strangely hard on me? I failed to recognize my own happy temperament, and I met with the most singular annoyances from all quarters. I could not sit down on a bench by myself or set my foot any place without being assailed by insignificant accidents, miserable details, that forced their way into my imagination and scattered my powers to all the four winds. A dog that dashed by me, a yellow rose in a man's buttonhole, had the power to set my thoughts vibrating and occupy me for a length of time.

Every growing thing has received its peculiar impress: the delicately blown breath of the first cold. The stubbles straggle wanly sunwards, and the falling leaves rustle to the earth, with a sound as of errant silkworms.

I found a bench to myself and began chewing savagely at my lunch. It did me good; it had been a long time since I’d had such a well-balanced meal and I gradually became aware of the same feeling of tired peace which one feels after a long cry. My courage had now returned; it was not enough any longer to write an essay on something so elementary and simple-minded as “Crimes of the Future,” which any ass could arrive at, let alone read in history books.

The thought of God began to occupy me. It seemed to me in the highest degree indefensible of Him to interfere every time I sought for a place, and to upset the whole thing, while all the time I was but imploring enough for a daily meal.

When it got dark I jogged along to the Town Hall--God knows how I got there--and sat on the edge of the balustrade. I tore a pocket out of my coat and took to chewing it; not with any defined object, but with dour mien and unseeing eyes, staring straight into space.

Was I lazy? Had I not applied for situations, attended lectures, written articles, and worked day and night like a man possessed? Had I not lived like a miser, eaten bread and milk when I had plenty, bread alone when I had little, and starved when I had nothing? Did I live in an hotel? Had I a suite of rooms on the first floor?

Thou good God, what a miserable plight I have come to! I was so heartily tired and weary of all my miserable life that I did not find it worth the trouble of fighting any longer to preserve it. Adversity had gained the upper hand; it had been too strong for me. I had become so strangely poverty-stricken and broken, a mere shadow of what I once had been; my shoulders were sunken right down on one side, and I had contracted a habit of stooping forward fearfully as I walked, in order to spare my chest what little I could. I had examined my body a few days ago, one noon up in my room, and I had stood and cried over it the whole time. I had worn the same shirt for many weeks, and it was quite stiff with stale sweat, and had chafed my skin. A little blood and water ran out of the sore place; it did not hurt much, but it was very tiresome to have this tender place in the middle of my stomach. I had no remedy for it, and it wouldn't heal of its own accord. I washed it, dried it carefully, and put on the same shirt. There was no help for it, it....

What was it that ailed me? Was the hand of the Lord turned against me? But why just against me? Why, for that matter, not just as well against a man in South America? When I considered the matter over, it grew more and more incomprehensible to me that I of all others should be selected as an experiment for a Creator's whims. It was, to say the least of it, a peculiar mode of procedure to pass over a whole world of other humans in order to reach me. Why not select just as well Bookseller Pascha, or Hennechen the steam agent?

I tell you your Heaven is full of the kingdom of the earth's most crass- headed idiots and poverty-stricken in spirit! I tell you, you have filled your Heaven with the grossest and most cherished harlots from here below, who have bent their knees piteously before you at their hour of death! I tell you, you have used force against me, and you know not, you omniscient nullity, that I never bend in opposition! I tell you, all my life, every cell in my body, every power of my soul, gasps to mock you--you Gracious Monster on High. I tell you, I would, if I could, breathe it into every human soul, every flower, every leaf, every dewdrop in the garden! I tell you, I would scoff you on the day of doom, and curse the teeth out of my mouth for the sake of your Deity's boundless miserableness! I tell you from this hour I renounce all thy works and all thy pomps! I will execrate my thought if it dwell on you again, and tear out my lips if they ever utter your name! I tell you, if you exist, my last word in life or in death--I bid you farewell, for all time and eternity--I bid you farewell with heart and reins. I bid you the last irrevocable farewell, and I am silent, and turn my back on you and go my way.... Quiet.

A little way down the road I turned, and saw how his wife and daughter took him up. And I thought to myself: no, ’tis not all roses when one goes a-wandering. At the next place I came to I learned that he had been with the army, as quartermaster-sergeant; then he went mad over a lawsuit he lost, and was shut up in an asylum for some time. Now in the spring his trouble broke out again; perhaps it was my coming that had given the final touch. But the lightning insight in his eyes at the moment when the madness came upon him! I think of him now and again; he was a lesson to me. ’Tis none so easy to judge of men, who are wise or mad. And God preserve us all from being known for what we are!

I understood that I was close to total collapse. I put my hands against the wall and shoved to push myself away from it. The street was still dancing around. I began to hiccup from fury, and struggled with every bit of energy against my collapse, fought a really stout battle not to fall down. I didn’t want to fall, I wanted to die standing. A wholesale grocer’s cart came by, and I saw it was filled with potatoes, but out of fury, from sheer obstinacy, I decided that they were not potatoes at all, they were cabbages, and I swore violent oaths that they were cabbages. I heard my own words very well, and I took the oath again and again on this lie, and swore deliberately just to have the delightful satisfaction of committing such clear perjury. I became drunk over this superb sin, I lifted three fingers in the air and swore with trembling lips in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost that they were cabbages.

Dusk began to fall, I sank into myself more and more, grew tired and lay back on the bed. To warm my hands a bit, I pushed my fingers through my hair, back and forth, crossways and sideways; small handfuls came loose, tufts came away between my fingers and spread over the pillow. I didn't worry about that, it was as if it were not happening to me; I had plenty of hair anyway. After a while I attempted to rouse myself from this curious drowsiness which had floated into all my limbs like a fog; I sat up, coughed as hard as my chest would allow - and fell back once more. Nothing to do, I was dying with open eyes, helpless, staring up at the ceiling. Finally I put my forefinger in my mouth and started sucking on it. Something started to flicker in my brain, an idea that had gotten in there, a lunatic notion. Suppose I took a bite? Without a moment's hesitation I shut my eyes and clamped down hard with my teeth. I leaped up. Finally I was awake. A little blood trickled from the finger, and I licked it off. There wasn't much pain, the wound didn't amount to anything, but I was suddenly myself again. I shook my head, walked to the window, and found a rag for my finger. While I stood puttering about with that, my eyes suddenly filled, I cried softly to myself. The poor biten thin finger looked so pitiful. My God, I was a long way down.