Poems and Ballads of Heinrich Heine Part 15

LXXIII.

Like shadows black the houses Uprise in long array.

Enveloped in my mantle I hurry on my way.

The old cathedral-belfry Chimes midnight grave and slow.

With all her charms and kisses My love awaits me now.

The moon is my companion, Kind-beaming from the sky I reach the house beloved, And joyously I cry--

"I thank thee, trusty servant, That thou hast cheered my way.

And now, dear moon, I leave thee.

On others shed thy ray.

"And if a lonely lover Who sings of grief, thou see, Oh give him such sweet solace As thou hast given me."

LXXIV.

Wert thou, in sooth, mine honored wife, Then shouldst thou envied be; A merry pastime were thy life-- All pleasure, mirth, and glee.

And should'st thou scold, and rail and curse, I'd meekly bear my fate; But if thou do not praise my verse, Then shall we separate.

LXXV.

Upon thy snow-white shoulders I lean my head at rest; And secretly I hearken To the yearning of thy breast.

In thy heart hussars blue-coated Are riding and blowing their horn; And my darling will surely desert me With the earliest streak of morn.

And if thou desert me to-morrow, None the less art thou mine to-day.

And within thine arms so lovely, Still doubly blest I stay.

LXXVI.

Hussars are blowing their trumpets, And to thy doors they ride.

A garland of wreathed roses I bring to thee, my bride.

That were a boisterous household, Landpests and soldiery!

And in thy little heart, dear, The goodliest quarters be.

LXXVII.

I, too, in my youth did languish, Suffered many a bitter anguish, Burning in love's spell.

Now the price of fuel's higher, And extinguished is the fire, _Ma foi!_ and that is well.

Think of this, my youthful beauty, Dry the stupid tears of duty, Quell love's stupid, vague alarms.

Since thy life is not yet over, Oh forget thy former lover, _Ma foi!_ within mine arms.

LXXVIII.

Dost thou hate me then so fiercely, Hast thou really changed so blindly?

To the world I shall proclaim it, Thou could'st treat me so unkindly.

Say, ungrateful lips, how can you Breathe an evil word of scorning, Of the very man who kissed you So sincerely, yestermorning?

LXXIX.

Yes, they are the self-same eyes That still brighten as I greet her, Yes, they are the self-same lips That made all my life seem sweeter.

Yes, it is the very voice, At whose slightest tones I faltered But no more the same am I; I wend homeward strangely altered.

By the fair white arms embraced With a close and tender pa.s.sion, Now I lie upon her heart, Dull of brain, in cold vexation.

Lx.x.x.

Ye could not understand mine ire Nor I the tales that ye did tell, But when we met within the mire, We knew each other very well.

Lx.x.xI.

But the eunuchs still complained, When I raised my voice to sing-- They complained and they maintained That it had too harsh a ring.

And they raised with one accord All their dainty voices clear, Little crystal trills outpoured-- Oh, how pure and fine to hear!

And they sang of love so sweet, Love's desire and love's full measure, That the rare artistic treat Made the ladies weep for pleasure.

Lx.x.xII.

On the walls of Salamanca Gently sigh the breezes yonder.

Often with my gracious Donna, There on summer eves I wander.

Round my beauty's slender girdle, Tenderly mine arm enwreathing, I can feel with blessed finger Her proud bosom's haughty breathing.

But I hear an anxious whisper Through the linden-branches coming, And below, the somber mill-stream Murmurs dreams of evil omen.

Ah, Senora, I foresee it!

I shall be expelled forever, On the walls of Salamanca, We again shall wander never!

Lx.x.xIII.