Laudator Temporis Acti

Heinrich Heine (1797-1856), Die Heimkehr LXVI, from Buch der Lieder (tr. Hal Draper):

I dreamed a dream: I'm God himself,
All Heaven kneels to me,
The angels sit around my throne
And praise my poetry.

I eat the finest cakes and sweets
That golden coin can get,
And drink expensive wines to boot
And never run up a debt.

Sometimes I wish me down on earth
For boredom makes me sick,
And were I not the Lord himself
I might have been Old Nick.

"You lanky angel, Gabriel,
Go stretch your legs a bit,
Go find my good old friend Eugene
And bring him where I sit.

"Look for him not in college halls
But near a Tokay case;
Look for him not in Hedwig's Church
But Ma'mselle Meyer's place."

The angel spreads his wings and soars
Down to the lower sphere,
And finds my friend and picks him up
And brings the scamp up here.

"Yes, lad, I am Lord God himself,
Earth trembles 'neath my sway!
I always told you, didn't I,
I'd make the top some day.

"I pass a miracle every hour
That you would revel in,
And just for fun, today I'll beam
A blessing on Berlin.

"The paving stones in every street
Will split and open wide,
And every stone will have a fresh
And tasty oyster inside.

"The oysters will be sprinkled by
A shower of lemon juice,
And down the street the best Rhine wine
Will flow as through a sluice."

The joyful Berliners rush out
To gulp a bite to eat;
The judges of the District Court
Are swilling from the street.

How glad the poets are to see
This heaven-sent food supply!
The ensigns and lieutenants too
Are lapping the gutters dry.

The ensigns and lieutenants are
The smartest in their way:
They know that miracles like this
Don't come along every day.

German here (Mir träumt': Ich bin der liebe Gott...).