Prevod

Long ago, a giant was walking along the high road when a stranger suddenly sprang into his path and cried, “Stop! Not another step!” “What!” said the giant. “You little wretch, whom I could crush between my fingers—do you mean to bar my way? Who are you, to speak so boldly?” “I am Death,” replied the other. “No one withstands me, and you too must obey my commands.” But the giant refused and began to wrestle with Death. It was a long and fierce struggle, but at last the giant gained the upper hand and struck Death down with his fist, so that he collapsed beside a stone. The giant went on his way, while Death lay there defeated, so weak that he could not rise again. “What will become of things,” he said, “if I am left lying here in this corner? No one in the world will die, and it will grow so crowded with people that they will no longer have room to stand side by side.” Just then a young man came along the road, hale and hearty, singing a song and looking about him. When he caught sight of the half-conscious stranger, he went over to him in pity, helped him sit up, gave him a strengthening draught from his flask, and waited until his strength returned. “Do you know,” asked the stranger as he rose, “who I am, and whom you have helped back onto his feet?” “No,” answered the young man, “I do not know you.” “I am Death,” he said. “I spare no one, and I cannot make an exception for you. But to show you that I am grateful, I promise not to take you unawares. Before I come to fetch you, I shall first send you my messengers.” “Well then,” said the young man, “it is something, at least, to know when you are coming, and to be safe from you until then.” So he went on his way, merry and lighthearted, and lived without a care for the morrow. But youth and health did not last long. Soon sickness and pain came, tormenting him by day and robbing him of rest at night. “I shall not die,” he said to himself, “for Death must send his messengers first. I only wish these wretched days of illness were over.” As soon as he felt well again, he returned to his life of pleasure. Then one day someone tapped him on the shoulder. He turned and saw Death standing behind him. “Follow me,” said Death. “The hour has come for you to leave this world.” “What!” answered the man. “Would you break your word? Did you not promise to send your messengers before you came yourself? I have seen none.” “Be silent,” replied Death. “Have I not sent you messenger after messenger? Did not fever come and seize you, shake you, and cast you down? Did not dizziness make your head reel? Did not gout torment your every limb? Was there no roaring in your ears? Did not toothache gnaw at your cheeks? Does your sight not grow dim? And besides all this, did not my own brother, Sleep, remind you of me every evening? Did you not lie at night as though you were already dead?” The man had no answer. He submitted to his fate and went away with Death.