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.

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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