German author Georg Philipp Harsdörffer excelled not just in the literary arena but was also a lawyer, scholar and mathematician, patrician, diplomat and judge.
His writings spoke to an international reader and encompassed nearly all areas of 17th century knowledge.
Harsdörffer was among the most known writers of the German Baroque. He was influenced by poet Martin Opitz' views and reforms, which laid the foundation of early modern German literature. He co-founded with another poet, Johann Klaj, the literary society known as the Pegnitz order. This order was a Pastoral Order of Shepherds and Flowers on the River Pegnitz. It was a language society, with aims to ‘purify’ the German language and to use dactyls instead of alternating iambics and to imitate the sounds of divine nature.
The poem The Life of Man by Georg Phillip Harsdörfer is about the transience and mortality of all life on earth. Everything that grows, all things in nature, as well as fame, for example, do not last forever, but change or even disappear completely.
The Life of Man
Life is
foliage that grunts and falls quickly.
A dust that the wind blows away easily.
A snow that will disappear in no time.
A lake that never stands still.
The Blum, so after the blood expires.
Glory short-lived.
A grass that is easily squashed.
A glass that is more easily crushed.
A dream that ends with sleep.
A foam consumed by tide and wind.
A hay that stays for a short time.
The chaff, so many a wind drives away.
A purchase that you will regret in the end.
A run that delights with a puff of breath.
A stream of water that darts swiftly.
The bubble of water that will soon melt away.
A shadow that makes us schabab
The mats, they dig our grave.
Life is
foliage that grunts and falls quickly.
A dust that the wind blows away easily.
A snow that will disappear in no time.
A lake that never stands still.
The Blum, so after the blood expires.
Glory short-lived.
A grass that is easily squashed.
A glass that is more easily crushed.
A dream that ends with sleep.
A foam consumed by tide and wind.
A hay that stays for a short time.
The chaff, so many a wind drives away.
A purchase that you will regret in the end.
A run that delights with a puff of breath.
A stream of water that darts swiftly.
The bubble of water that will soon melt away.
A shadow that makes us schabab
The mats, they dig our grave.
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