Love's Lament by Heinrich Heine
On night’s secrecy relying,
Silently I breathe my woes;
From the haunts of mortals flying,
Where the cup of pleasure flows.
Down my cheeks run tears all burning,
Silently, unceasingly;
But my bosom’s fiery yearning
Quench’ed by tears can never be.{2}
When a laughing urchin, gaily
Many a merry game I play’d;
In life’s sunshine basking daily,
Knowing nought of grief or shade.
For a garden of enjoyment
Was the world I then lived in,
Tending flowers my sole employment,
Roses, violets, jessamine.
By the brook’s side, on the meadow,
Sweetly mused I in those days;
Now I see a pale thin shadow,
When upon the brook I gaze.
Pale and thin my grief hath made me,
Since mine eyes upon her fell;
Secret sorrows now pervade me,
Wonderful and hard to tell.
Deep within my heart I cherish’d
Angel forms of peace and love,
Which have fled, their short joys perish’d,
To their starry home above.
Ghastly shadows rise unbidden,
Black night round mine eyes is thrown;
In my trembling breast is hidden
A sad whisp’ring voice unknown.
Unknown sorrows, unknown anguish
Toss me wildly to and fro,
And I pine away and languish,
Tortured by an unknown glow.
But the cause why I am lying
Rack’d by fiery torments now,—
Why from very grief I’m dying,—
Love, behold!—The cause art thou!
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