The poems of Heine; Complete. Heinrich Heine

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СКАЧАТЬ What joy! As walking-stick it serves the dandy,

       Or else for beating clothes they find it handy.

      2.

      Give me a mask, I’ll join the masquerade

       As country clown, so that the rabble rot

       Who in their proud disguises strut about

       May not suppose me one of their vile trade.

       Give me low manners, words on purpose made

       To show vulgarity beyond all doubt;

       All sparks of spirit I’ll with care put out

       Wherewith dull fools coquet in accents staid.

       So will I dance then at the great mask’d ball,

       By German knights, monks, kings surrounded too,

       By Harlequin saluted, known to few.

       With wooden swords they’ll strike me, one and all.

       That is the joke. For if I show my face,

       The rascals will be silenced in disgrace.

      3.

      I laugh at all the fools who at me gape,

       And whom with prying goat-like face I see;

       I laugh at every fox who knavishly

       And idly snuffs me like a very grape;

       I laugh at every vain pretentious ape,

       Who a proud judge of genius claims to be;

       I laugh at all the knaves who threaten me

       With poisonous weapons whence there’s no escape.

       For when the charming fancies joy once gave

       Are wrested from us by the hands of fate,

       And at our feet in thousand atoms cast,

       And when our very heart is torn at last,

       All torn and cut and pierced and desolate,

       A fine shrill laugh we still have power to save.

      4.

      A strange and charming tale still haunts my mind,

       Wherein a song the leading part assumes,

       And in the song there lives and twines and blooms

       A lovely specimen of womankind;

       And in this maiden is a heart enshrined,

       And yet no love that little heart illumes;

       Her loveless frosty disposition dooms

       Her life to suffer from her pride so blind.

       Hear’st thou how in my head the tale comes back?

       And how the song sounds solemnly and sad?

       And how the maiden titters softly yet?

       I only fear lest my poor head should crack.

       Alas! it would indeed be far too bad,

       If my unlucky reason were upset.

      5.

      At evening’s silent, melancholy hour,

       Long buried songs around me take their place,

       And burning tears course swiftly down my face,

       And my old heart-wounds bleed with greater power.

       My love’s dear image like a beauteous flower

       As in a magic glass again I trace;

       In bodice red she sits and sews apace,

       And silence reigns around her blissful bower.

       But on a sudden springs she from her seat,

       And cuts from her dear head a beauteous lock,

       And gives it me—the very joy’s a shock.

       The Evil One soon spoilt my rapture sweet:

       The hair he twisted in a rope full strong,

       And many a year has dragg’d me thus along.

      6.

      “When I a year ago again met thee,

       “No kiss thou gav’st me in that moment blest;”—

       Thus spake I, and my love a kiss impress’d

       With rosy mouth upon my lips with glee.

       With a sweet smile she from a myrtle tree

       Hard by us pluck’d a twig, and said in jest:

       “Take thou this twig, in fresh earth let it rest,

       “And o’er it place a glass,”—then nodded she.

       Twas long ago. The twig died in the pot.

       ’Tis many a year since she hath cross’d my sight;

       Yet in my head that kiss still burneth hot.

       Lately returning home, I sought the place

       Where dwells my love. Before her house all night

       I stood, and left when morning show’d its face.

      7.

      Of savage devils’-brats, my friend, beware,

       But gentle angels’-brats more hearts will break;

       Once such a one a sweet kiss bid me take,

       But when I came, I felt sharp talons there.

       Of black and ancient cats, my friend, take care,

       But white young kittens are still more awake;

       Once such a one my sweetheart did I make—

       My heart my sweetheart savagely did tear.

       O darling brat! O maiden passing sweet!

       How could thy clear eye e’er deceive me so?

       How could thy paw e’er give me such a blow?

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