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He sat on my lungs,
He tickled me with his beard,
I must have tilted forwards and backwards,
I must have displayed all my sides,
I was spared no humiliation,
And I became ever paler and paler,
And ever more harsh was the torture.
Yet I remained steady and just whimpered:
"I am innocent, Herr Professor!"

Now the specialist perceived
That his horrible efforts were fruitless,
He commanded me again to get up,
Furrowed his brows and resumed:

"Your spleen lies a bit awry,
The liver is too high and the stomach too low,
Also, the large intestine is a little too twisted,
And the small intestine is too straight. In short,
in the threads of your belly,
I find - nothing exceptional!

"Nonetheless, I'd wouldn't like to undertake to
come to a definitive conclusion today.
I must test your stomach internally!
Could you," he shouted with a funny face,
"measure your timing,
so that you eat tomorrow at 12 noon?"

"I could!" I yelled, "but I won't!
If you order me medicine in a beaker,
I will win your favor, truly and honestly -
But if you want me to empty my bowels for you,
Then you'll never see me again!