There is a famous poem from my country.
The sorcerer's apprentice Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
English Translation © Richard Stokes
The old sorcerer
Has finally gone away!
Now the spirits he controls
Shall obey my commands.
I've noted his method,
What he says and does,
And with strength of spirit,
I shall work wonders too.
Wander! Wander
On and on,
So that water
Might flow,
And gush abundantly
And fill the bath.
So come along, you old broomstick!
Dress yourself in rotten rags!
You've long been a servant;
Obey my orders now!
Stand up on two legs,
Let's give you a head on top,
Make haste now and off you go
With the water-jug!
Wander! Wander
On and on,
So that water
Might flow,
And gush abundantly
And fill the bath.
Look, he's running down to the bank;
In truth! He's already reached the river,
And back he comes as quick as lightning
And swiftly pours it all out.
Here he comes a second time!
Look how the tub is filling!
Look how every basin
Fills to overflowing!
Stand still, stand still!
Because we
Have had our fill
Of all your gifts! -
Alas! Alas! I realise now;
I've forgotten the magic word!
The word, alas, that turns him back
Into what he once was.
Alas! speedily he runs and fetches!
If only you were a broom as before!
He keeps rushing in
With more and more water,
Alas! a hundred rivers
Pour down on my head!
No, I won't permit it
A moment longer;
I shall seize him.
Oh, the spiteful brute!
Ah, now I'm getting really scared!
What a face! And what a look!
O, you creature from hell!
Shall the entire house be drowned?
I can see streams of water
Pouring through every door.
A despicable broom
Not to listen!
You who were once a stick -
Will you once again stand still!
Will you never
Ever stop?
I'll catch you,
I'll hold you,
And swiftly split this old wood
With this sharp hatchet.
Look, once more he comes, dragging pails!
Wait till I get to grips with you,
Then, O goblin, I'll knock you flat;
The smooth blade crashes down on him.
A fine blow, in truth!
Look - he's split in two.
There's hope for me now,
I can breathe freely again!
Alas! alas!
Both halves
Stand up at once,
A pair of servants,
Ready for action!
Ah, help me, you powers on high!
And off they run! Hall and steps
Get wetter and wetter.
What a ghastly inundation!
Lord and master, hear my cries! -
Ah, my master comes at last!
Sir, I'm in desperate straits!
The spirits I summoned -
I can't get rid of them.
'Into the corner,
Brooms! Brooms -
Have done!
Only your old master
Can call you forth
As spirits.'
But the problem is, in this world is no "old sorcerer" who will stop the madness.