a city old in trades, in cultivation of the arts based on industrious commerce of its citizens who boast the world's oldest commercial fair
the city in which Martin Luther and Melanchthon led fierce disputes with delegations of the Pope
where J. S. Bach found stimulus and time to master harmony and rhythm close to perfection, (and that was shocked listening to Leibniz's monadologies),
the city of which Goethe spoke with praise, that saw Napoleon defeated on the nearby battlefield (and built a monument of quite imposing ugliness one hundred years after the fact),
this city suffered hard from two world wars followed by over forty years of dreams gone sour of a new society, until, most recently, this city once again became a catalyst of major change.
Yet those who kept their meetings at St. Niklas' church and by their stubborn protest helped to reunite a country separated by walls for generations - those you don't see, walking the streets of Leipzig now.
What strikes the eye (besides the crumbling blackened ruins of former glory, and strip-mined land just out of town) is Wall Street's new frontier, the bustling peddlers of new easy wealth as they appear on every street downtown, offering anything from oranges to shoes and South Pacific cruises.
Ramshackled pre-fabs built on shabby parking lots already stake the claims of big banks, business and insurance companies that promise earnings, safety and security to eager though bewildered customers.
"Pecunia non olet" says the poster of the postal savings bank, and shows a happy pig rooting in money.
Old stores, in order to survive, have started selling new and shiny goods to happy new consumers,
only a few resist
and hesitate to walk a mile for the melange of fast food, cigarettes and ***** offered at makeshift stands that seem have come to symbolize the great new freedom
of the new Wild East.
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Written upon visiting Leipzig one year after the Cold War Iron Curtain came down. "Pecunia non olet" (Latin proverb) = "Money doesn't smell!"