Heinrich Heine

Thy letter sent to prove me,
Inflicts no sense of wrong;
No longer wilt thou love me,--
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Thy letter sent to prove me,
Inflicts no sense of wrong;
No longer wilt thou love me,--
Thy letter, though is long.

The swan, like the soul of the poet,
By the dull world is ill understood.

The swan, like the soul of the poet,
By the dull world is ill understood.

In these times we fight for ideas, and newspapers are our fortresses.

In these times we fight for ideas, and newspapers are our fortresses.

The nightingale appear'd the first,
And as her melody she sang,
The apple into blossom burst,
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The nightingale appear'd the first,
And as her melody she sang,
The apple into blossom burst,
To life the grass and violets sprang.

The sea appears all golden
Beneath the sun-lit sky.

The sea appears all golden
Beneath the sun-lit sky.