Heinrich Heine

With the rose the butterfly's deep in love,
A thousand times hovering round;
But round himself, all read more

With the rose the butterfly's deep in love,
A thousand times hovering round;
But round himself, all tender like gold,
The sun's sweet ray is hovering found.

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.

The spring's already at the gate
With looks my care beguiling;
The country round appeareth straight
read more

The spring's already at the gate
With looks my care beguiling;
The country round appeareth straight
A flower-garden smiling.

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 weather-cock on the church spire, though made of iron, would soon be broken by the storm-wind if it ... read more

The weather-cock on the church spire, though made of iron, would soon be broken by the storm-wind if it ... did not understand the noble art of turning to every wind.