Un enano alemán

"Musical bagatelle in 1 movement for cornet and laúd"

























"Otto Teufel is a German dwarf

he lives in the mansions of the Provost of Lyon as his own protegé, and performs pirouettes, and performs cabriolas, like a maddened fantoche, like an inamorato

Because Otto Teufel is a real dwarf, un enano, un nain, a midget: un piccolissimo nano

a matron with protruding breasts brings escalopes of horse, puree made with her own milk, and las deliciosas papas fritas:

Otto Teufel degusts the victuals with relish, submersing a fried potato into a bowl full of garlic sauce and origan.


The Provost of Lyon stucks a knife of gold in a tomato, and devours it with bestial delectation, while observes the midget with ferocious stare


the face of the Provost is red because of his multiple vices, and he is seated with his penis exposed at the warm air of the hall, because his dick is irritated and swollen with the eczema, and it oozes a lacteal fluid, accompanied by intense itching 




from the trapezoidal ceiling, six chandeliers of platinum adorned with Italian angels hang with tense aplomb, throwing a yellowal but excessive light that shines on the skins



a damozel or nymph comes, and anoints the cock and balls of the Provost with Ybarra oil

the freshness of the oleaginous liniment soothes the itching, and provokes a turgid erection in the dick of the Provost: 
the damosel milks cock and balls bucally to relieve the ardour.



Sixteen eyes observe Otto Teufel swallowing a massive spoonful of potage, and laughing with toothless carcajada

the muscles of his small head show an incipient cretinism, while he licks the last vestiges of Maizena from the plate 


from a corner of the disproportionate hall, two troubadours play a saraband with their flageolets, and a bard recites an idyl, while the muse Terpsichore floats over the banquet with agile wing, defecating on the desserts



Otto Teufel dances, dances like a maddening dervish, he walks on the fire and bites a sweet potato from the brochette


and the Provost dances with him, barefoot and maddening, like a sauvage


and Otto Teufel dances, dances hanging from the chandeliers, and floats, like any German midget at the court of the Provost of Lyon


and the Provost dances, like El Diablo, dances, and makes wine in a barrel, crushing the grapes with his own feet


and Otto Teufel dances, dances like Zarathustra, inebriated with mate amargo and bolas de fraile


and the Provost dances, dances like an enamoured, and plays dulzaina, and plays cor anglais, and plays ocarina, and plays castanets


and Otto Teufel dances, dances, exhilarated or stupefied, bravissimo, like a paisan from Neuquén



and he catches your hand and you dance, you dance! Like Plutarch in Norway, you dance





and you dance

and you dance...

and you fall...


and you fall...

and you dance


and you fall

and you fall...


















...and you fall."































Meanwhile, at the truncated gardens, your irrational eye observes the goddess Proserpina loving the asphodels from Pergamon.