An elf as avatar

Long ago in Cologne town fair,
Life seemed so easy everywhere.
No task too hard, no work too slow,
For all was done by hands we didn’t know.
At night, while people slept in bed,
The little men moved quick and sped.
Each chore completed, neat and bright,
So morning came with all things right.

The joiners laid their tools aside,
Yet every door and frame was plied.
The carpenters’ hammers beat no more,
But every nail was set secure.
The bakers, dreaming of the dawn,
Found loaves all baked and golden-brown.
The spinning wheels had turned so fast,
Thread neat and ready, none was last.

The seamstresses awoke with cheer,
Their floors were clean, no dirt was near.
Their cloth was cut, their stitches tight,
Each garment perfect, every seam right.
The cobbler’s shoes, the tailor’s vest,
All finished while they took their rest.
No mortal eye had seen the crew,
Yet all was done, as if on cue.

The little men, so small and spry,
Worked through the night, then said goodbye.
They came unseen and left the same,
Their kindness never sought for fame.
From city streets to baker’s shop,
From carpenter’s hall to spinning top,
All chores were done without a sound,
And joy and comfort all around.

But one wife, curious and sly,
Decided she would see them try.
She scattered peas upon the floor,
To watch the elves work as before.
They slipped, they tumbled, hearts did quake,
And soon her trick made them forsake.
No longer helpful, swift, or keen,
They vanished, never to be seen.

Since that strange night in Cologne town,
No hidden hands go bustling ‘round.
Each baker, tailor, cobbler, maid,
Now does the work that once was paid.
The magic gone, the secret lost,
Yet still the tale is told, embossed.
A city sleeps, and works with care,
No little men to help them there.

But stories live of what had been,
Of tiny men, so quick, unseen.
Their deeds remind us how delight,
Can visit quietly in the night.
Though now they’re gone, the legend stays,
In children’s songs and tales of praise.
A time when work was light and fair,
And wonder lingered in the air.

So think of them when tasks feel long,
The unseen helpers, swift and strong.
And maybe, if you dream just right,
They’ll tiptoe softly through your night.
For kindness, quiet, skilled, and small,
Can make the hardest burden small.
And in their honor, stories shine,
The little men of Cologne, divine.

Original text source:
August Kopisch, Die Heinzelmännchen, Dunker und Humblot Verlag, 1836, Wikisource

English rhymed translation created with the assistance of ChatGPT (OpenAI), 2026.