Venice masks

Monday 24 June 2013

On Wings of Song - Heinrich Heine

On wings of song—ah, lightly,
Heart’s dearest, I bear thee away:
A nook is beckoning brightly
Where Ganges’ waters play.

A blooming red garden is lying
In moonlight calm and clear,
The lotos flowers are sighing
For thee, their sister dear.

The violets banter and slyly
They peep at the star-rays pale,
The roses are whispering shyly
Some fragrant fairy-tale.

The gentle gazelles come leaping,
And hearken what we say;
The sacred river is sweeping
And murmuring far away.

Beloved, let us be sinking
Under the shady palm,
The blissful quiet drinking
And dreaming dreams of balm.

Christian Johann Heinrich Heine (1799 – 1856) Germany
Translated by Margarete Münsterberg
Source: A Harvest of German Verse, edited and translated by Margarete Münsterberg, D. Appleton and Co., 1916

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