Heinrich Heine on Valentine's Day
1797–1856 Germany
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6 quotes
It is an ancient story
Yet is it ever new.
Oh fair, oh sweet and holy as dew at morning tide,
I gaze on thee, and yearnings, sad in my bosom hide.
Thy letter sent to prove me,
Inflicts no sense of wrong;
No longer wilt thou love me,—
Thy letter, though, is long.
And once again we plighted our troth,
And titter'd, caress'd, kiss'd so dearly.
My songs, they say, are poisoned.
How else, love, could it be?
Thou hast, with deadly magic,
Poured poison into me.
Love's torments made me seek the chase;
Rifle in hand, I roam'd apace.
Down from the tree, with hollow scoff,
The raven cried: "Head-off! head off!"