I have received all your letters telling me how you get along. I must now inform you that I, Magister Veit, and Cyriac are not to be at the Diet, although we have one here. For there is a thicket just under our window like a small forest, where the daws and crows hold their diet, and such a running to and fro, and screaming night and day, that I often wonder they are not hoarse.
As yet I have not seen their emperor, but the courtiers are always prancing about dressed simply in black, with grey eyes, and all sing the same melody. They pay no heed to castle or hall; for their salon is vaulted by the beautiful canopy of heaven, while their feet rest on the broad fields with their green carpet and trees, the wails of their house reaching to the ends of the earth. They are independent of horses and carriages, for they have leathered wheels by which they escape the sportsmen’s bullets. I fancy they have come together to have a mighty onslaught on corn, barley, wheat, etc.
Many a knight will win his laurels here.
So here we sit, watching the gay life of song led by princes, etc., preparatory to a vigorous attack on the grain.
I always fancy it is the Sophists and Papists I see before me, so that I may hear their lovely voices and their sermons, and see for myself what a useful kind of people these are who consume all the fruits of the earth, and then strut about in their grand clothing to while away the time.
Today we heard the first nightingale. The weather has been splendid. I commit you to God; see well to the house. From the Diet of malt Turks. MARTIN LUTHER .
CCXI
TO WENZEL LINK
Luther writes about his work.
May 8, 1530.
Grace and peace! You accuse me, dear Wenzel, of silence, even of indifference, and blame me, although you
