Heinrich Heine

In blissful dream, in silent night,
There came to me, with magic might,
With magic might, my read more

In blissful dream, in silent night,
There came to me, with magic might,
With magic might, my own sweet love,
Into my little room above.

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.

Twelve dancers are dancing, and taking no rest,
And closely their hands together are press'd;
And soon read more

Twelve dancers are dancing, and taking no rest,
And closely their hands together are press'd;
And soon as a dance has come to a close,
Another begins, and each merrily goes.