Heinrich Heine

13 December 1797 – 17 February 1856 / Dusseldorf

From 'To Seraphime'

Wandl' ich in dem Wald des Abends

Through the wood when I am wandering
In the dusky eventide,
Goes a dainty form in silence
Always closely at my side.

Is not this thy veil, the white one?
This the gentle face I love?
Is it merely moonlight breaking
Through the gloomy firs above?

Is that sound the sound of weeping
From mine own eyes welling deep?
Or dost thou, Beloved, truly
Walk to-night by me and weep?

Es ragt ins Meer der Runenstein

The Runic stone from the sea rears high
Where I sit and dream and ponder;
The winds they pipe; the sea-gulls cry;
The billows foam and wander.

Oh, many a maiden loved have I,
With many a lad gone roaming—
Where are they now? The winds, they sigh-
The billows wander foaming.
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