Theodor Fontane (1819–1898)

SIR RIBBECK of Ribbeck in Havelland—

A pear-tree in his yard did stand;

And in the golden autumn-tide,

When pears were shining far and wide,

Sir Ribbeck, when barely the bells had struck noon,

Would stuff both his pockets with pears right soon.

If a boy in clogs would come his way,

He would call: “My boy, have a pear to-day?”

To a girl he’d call: “Little maid over there,

Now come here to me, and I’ll give you a pear!”

And thus he did ever, as years went by,

Till Sir Ribbeck of Ribbeck came to die.

He felt his end coming; ’twas autumn-tide,

And the pears were laughing, far and wide.

Then spoke Sir Ribbeck: “And now I must die.

Lay a pear in my grave, beside me to lie!”

From the double-roofed house, in three days more,

Sir Ribbeck to his grave they bore.

All the peasants and cotters with solemn face

Did sing: “Lord Jesus, in Thy Grace”—

And the children moaned with hearts of lead:

“Who will give us a pear? Now he is dead.”

Thus moaned the children—that was not good!—

Not knowing old Ribbeck as they should.

Young Ribbeck—alas!—is a miser hard;

Over park and pear-tree he keeps stern guard.

But the old, who this doubtless could foretell,

Distrusting his son—he knew right well

What he was about when he bade them lay

A pear in his grave, on his dying day:

Out of his silent haunt in the third year

A little pear-tree shoot did soon appear.

And many a year now comes and goes,

But a pear-tree on the grave there grows,

And in the golden autumn-tide

The pears are shining far and wide.

When a boy o’er the grave-yard wends his way,

The tree whispers: “Boy, have a pear to-day?”

To a girl it says: “Little maid over there,

Come here to me and I’ll give you a pear!”

So there are blessings still from the hand

Of Sir Ribbeck of Ribbeck in Havelland.