A little bird sat in his cage and looked into the sunshine with longing eyes. He was a songbird and lived in a civilized country – at least it called itself that.
In the blue distance there were blue mountains.
The south is behind those mountains, the little bird thought. I've only flown that way once. Then never again.
The distant mountains seems very close to him. His longing made them move so close to the bars of his cage.
»They are so very close,« said the little bird. »If only those bars weren't there. If only the door opened – just once. Then my great moment would come, and I'd be behind the blue mountains with a few beats of my wings.«
The cranes migrated south. Their lamenting cry sounded through the autumn air – plaintive and tempting.
They vanished behind the blue mountains.
The little bird fluttered against the bars of his cage.
Winter came, and the little bird grew silent. Snow fell, and the blue mountains turned grey. The route to the south lay shrouded in coldness and mist.
Many winters and many summers passed. Many years passed. The mountains turned blue and then grey again. Migratory birds returned from the south and flew back south. The little bird behind the bars of his cage was waiting for the great moment.
And then a clear, sunny fall day came. The cage door was open. It had been left open by accident. People would never do such a thing on purpose.
The great moment had come! The little bird was all atremble with joy and excitement. Carefully and timidly he hopped out and fluttered to the nearest tree. Everything around him was so confusing. He was no longer used to all of this.
The blue mountains shone in the blue distance.
They now appeared to be very far away. Much too far for the wings that had not moved in so many years behind bars. But it had to be! The great moment had come!
The little bird gathered up all his courage and strength and spread his wings wide, as wide as they would go – for the flight to the south, beyond the blue mountains.
But he did not make it any farther than to the next branch. Had his wings withered away during all these years of waiting? Or was it something else in him that had withered away? He did not know himself. The blue mountains were far, far away, much too distant for him.
So he fluttered back into his cage.
The cranes flew south. Their lamenting cry sounded through the autumn air – plaintive and tempting. It was the call south.
They vanished behind the blue mountains.
The little bird lowered his head and hid it underneath his wing.
The great moment had come and gone.
Translation of Der große Augenblick, from the collection Unter Tieren, first published in 1912. Copyright © of English translation by Johannes Beilharz, 2001. The background image is derived from the cover of a German 1930 edition of Kyber's collected animal stories.