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Ein einziger Schrei – die Stadt ist versunken,
Und Hunderttausende sind ertrunken.
Wo gestern noch Lärm und lustiger Tisch,
Schwamm andern Tags der stumme Fisch.
Heut bin ich über Rungholt gefahren,
Die Stadt ging unter vor sechshundert Jahren.
Trutz, Blanke Hans?
(Excerpt)
full text and info:
https://www.deutschland-lese.de/streifzuege/balladen/trutz-blanke-hans/
Germany; 19. Century; Christian; Poetry; City: Rungholt
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