love poetry

Der Tag ist in die Nacht verliebt

The Day is enamored of Night,
And Spring is entranced by Winter,
Life is in love with Death,
And you — are in love with me!

You love me — look, and even now
Gray shadows seem to fold you;
All of your blossoming fades
And your white soul lies bleeding.

Oh shrink from me, and only love
The butterflies light-hearted,
That sport among the golden beams . . .
Oh shrink from me — and all things bitter.

In der Hand die kleine Lampe

With a small lamp in her fingers
And a great glow in her breast,
Psyche creeps into the chamber
Where the Sleeper is at rest.

She grows frightened and she blushes
As she sees his beauty bare —
While the god of love awakens,
And his pinions beat the air . . .

Eighteen hundred years of penance!
She, poor soul, still fasts with awe;

Das Meer erstrahlt im Sonnenschein

The sea is sparkling in the sun,
Golden and glad to be.
My brothers, when I come to die,
Bury me in the sea.

For I have always loved it; yes,
And it was kind to me;
It cooled my heart, how often!
We were good friends, were we.

Schattenküsse, Schattenliebe

Shadow-love and shadow-kisses,
Shadow-life — you think it strange!
Fool! Did you imagine this is
Fixed and constant; free from change?

Everything we love and cherish
Like a dream, goes hurrying past;
While the hearts forget and perish,
And the eyes are closed at last.

An dem stillen Meeresstrande

Night has come with silent footsteps,
On the beaches by the ocean;
And the waves, with curious whispers,
Ask the moon, " Have you a notion

" Who that man is? Is he foolish,
Or with love is he demented?
For he seems so sad and cheerful,
So cast down yet so contented. "

And the moon, with shining laughter,
Answers them, " If you must know it,

Die holden Wünsche blühen

The sweet desires blossom
And fade, and revive and spend
Their beauty and wither, and blossom —
And so on, to the end.

I know this, and it saddens
My love and all its zest . . .
My heart's so wise and clever
It bleeds away in my breast.

Es war ein alter Konig

There was an aged monarch,
His heart and head were gray with strife;
This poor, old monarch wedded
A young and lovely wife.

There was a pretty page-boy,
His hair was light, his heart was clean;
He carried the long and silken
Train of the fair young queen.

You know the old, old story
So sweet, so sad to tell —
Both of them had to perish;

Die schlanke Wasserlilie

The slender water-lily
Stares at the heavens above,
And sees the moon who gazes
With the luminous eyes of love.

Blushing, she bends and lowers
Her head in a shamed retreat —
And there is the poor, pale lover,
Languishing at her feet!

Das Meer hat seine Perlen

The sea has its pearls,
The heaven its stars, —
But my heart, my heart,
My heart has its love.

The sea and the heaven are great,
But my heart is greater still;
And fairer than pearls or stars
Glistens and sparkles my love.

Oh young and lovely maiden
Come to my fathomless heart;
My soul and the sea and the heavens
Are wasting away with love.

Man glaubt, dass ich mich gräme

They think that I am tortured
Beneath a bitter yoke;
And I have come to believe it
As well as other folk.

Oh little, great-eyed maiden,
I've told thee time and again,
That beyond words I love thee,
That Love gnaws my heart in twain.

But in my own room only
I've said this thing — for see,
When I am in thy presence