The poems of Heine; Complete. Heinrich Heine

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СКАЧАТЬ My vows of love was bringing.

      2.

      From out of my tears all burning

       Many blooming flowerets break,

       And all my sighs combining

       A chorus of nightingales make.

      And if thou dost love me, my darling,

       To thee shall the flowerets belong;

       Before thy window shall echo

       The nightingale’s tuneful song.

      3.

      The rose and the lily, the dove and the sun,

       I loved them all dearly once, every one;

       I love them no longer, I love now alone

       The small one, the neat one, the pure one, mine own.

       Yes, she herself, the fount of all love,

       Is the rose and the lily, the sun and the dove.

      4.

      When gazing on thy beauteous eyes

       All thought of sorrow straightway flies;

       But when I kiss thy mouth so sweet,

       My cure is perfect and complete.

      When leaning on thy darling breast,

       I feel with heavenly rapture blest;

       But when thou sayest: “I love thee!”

       I begin weeping bitterly.

      5.

      Thy face, so lovely and serene,

       In vision I have lately seen;

       So like an angel’s ’tis, and meek,

       Though bitter grief has blanch’d thy cheek.

      Thy lips alone, they still are red;

       Death soon will kiss them pale and dead;

       The heavenly light will soon be o’er

       That from thine eyes is wont to pour.

      6.

      O lean thy beauteous cheek on mine,

       That our tears together may mingle!

       Against my bosom press thou thine,

       That their flames may no longer be single

      And when with the flame is mingled at last

       The stream of our tears all burning,

       And mine arm is lovingly round thee cast—

       I’ll die of my love’s sweet yearning.

      7.

      I’ll dip my spirit discreetly

       In the cup of the lily down here;

       The lily shall sing to me sweetly

       A song of my mistress dear.

      The song shall tremble and quiver,

       Like that delicious kiss,

       Of which her mouth was the giver

       In a wondrous moment of bliss.

      8.

      The stars in yonder heavens

       Immovably have stood

       For thousands of years, regarding

       Each other in sad loving mood.

      They speak a mysterious language

       That’s rich and sweet to the ear;

       Yet no philologist living

       Can make its meaning clear.

      But I’ve learnt it, and ne’er will forget it,

       Whatever the time and place;

       As my grammar I used for the purpose

       My own dear mistress’s face.

      9.

      On song’s exulting pinion

       I’ll bear thee, my sweetheart fair,

       Where Ganges holds his dominion—

       The sweetest of spots know I there.

      There a red blooming garden is lying

       In the moonlight silent and clear;

       The lotos flowers are sighing

       For their sister so pretty and dear

      The violets prattle and titter,

       And gaze on the stars high above

       The roses mysteriously twitter

       Their fragrant stories of love.

      The gazelles so gentle and clever

       Skip lightly in frolicsome mood

       And in the distance roars ever

       The holy river’s loud flood.

      And there, while joyously sinking

       Beneath the palm by the stream,

       And love and repose while drinking

       Of blissful visions we’ll dream.

      10.

      The lotos flower is troubled

       At the sun’s resplendent light

       With sunken head and sadly

       She dreamily waits for the night.

      The moon appears as her wooer,

       She wakes at his fond embrace;

       For him she kindly uncovers

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