Amerika Franz Kafka
Karl Rossmann, a poor boy of sixteen who had been packed off to America by his parents because a servant girl had seduced him and got herself with child by him, stood on the liner slowly entering the harbour of New York, a sudden burst of sunshine seemed to illumine the Statue of Liberty, so that he saw it in a new light, although he had sighted it long before. The arm with the sword rose up as if newly stretched aloft, and round the figure blew the free winds of heaven.
'So high!' he said to himself, and was gradually edged to the very rail by the swelling throng of porters pushing past him, since he was not thinking at all of getting off the ship. A young man with whom he had struck up a slight acquaintance on the voyage called out in passing: 'Not very anxious to go ashore, are you?'
'Oh, I'm quite ready,' said Karl with a laugh, and being both strong and in high spirits he heaved his box on to his shoulder. But as his eye followed his acquaintance… he realised with dismay that he had forgotten his umbrella down below.
Translated from German by Willa and Edwin Muir
