Heinrich Heine

Sweet May hath come to love us,
Flowers, trees, their blossoms don;
And through the blue heavens read more

Sweet May hath come to love us,
Flowers, trees, their blossoms don;
And through the blue heavens above us
The very clouds move on.

Mark this well, you proud men of action! you are, after all, nothing but unconscious instruments of the men of read more

Mark this well, you proud men of action! you are, after all, nothing but unconscious instruments of the men of thought.

Like a wedding-song all-melting
Sings the nightingale, the dear one.

Like a wedding-song all-melting
Sings the nightingale, the dear one.

The Blossoms and leaves in plenty
From the apple tree fall each day;
The merry breezes approach read more

The Blossoms and leaves in plenty
From the apple tree fall each day;
The merry breezes approach them,
And with them merrily play.

In vain would I seek to discover
Why sad and mournful am I,
My thoughts without ceasing read more

In vain would I seek to discover
Why sad and mournful am I,
My thoughts without ceasing brood over
A tale of the time gone by.
[Ger., Ich weiss nicht was soll es bedeuten,
Dass ich so traurig bin:
Ein marchen aus alten Zeiten
Das kommt mir nicht aus dem Sinn.]