I tried to translate Theodor Storm's poem. But it will probably not be right.

Christmas Eve

I went through the foreign city very worried
I think of my children that I left at home.
Christmas was; through all alleys calls
the children's cheer and the market roar.

And how the human storm current torn me away,
It penetrated a hoarse voice into my ear;
"Buy, dear Lord!" A thin hand held
a small poor toy for me.

I was startled and in the lantern light
I saw a pale arme child's face;
Which age and gender may be
I do not recognize in going.

Only on the stairstone, it was sitting on it,
I still hear, sad as it seemed;
"Buy, dear Lord!" this call without ceasing;
But nobody probably heard that.

And I? - Was it clumsy, it was the shame?
On the way to act with the begging child?
Before my hand came to my stock exchange,
Disappeared the voice behind me in the wind.

But when I was finally alone with myself
It grasped the very fear in my heart
if my child was sit on that stone
And screamed for bread, however, I go.

poem from Theodor Storm

https://www.l-seifert.de/grusskarten-advent/grusskarten-advent.php