Poems and Ballads of Heinrich Heine Part 8

Beautiful undines, come forth!

Sing and dance your magic measure.

Take my body and my soul: On your lap my head shall rest.

Sing to death, caress to death; Kiss the life from out my breast.

XI.

All in gray clouds closely m.u.f.fled, Now the high G.o.ds sleep together, And I listen to their snoring.

Here below 'tis stormy weather.

Stormy weather, raging tempest Soon the helpless vessel shatters.

Who these furious winds can bridle?

Who can curb the lordless waters?

I can ne'er control the tempest, Over deck and masthead sweeping; I will wrap me in my mantle, And will sleep as G.o.ds are sleeping.

XII.

The night wind draws his trousers on,-- His foam-white hose once more; He wildly whips the waves anon, They howl, and rage, and roar.

From yon dark height, with frantic might, The rain pours ceaselessly.

It seems as if the ancient night Would drown the ancient sea.

Anigh the mast the sea-mew screams, With hoa.r.s.e shrieks, flying low.

Its every cry an omen seems, A prophecy of woe.

XIII.

The storm for a dance is piping, With bellow and roar and hiss.

Hurrah! how the s.h.i.+p is tossing, What a merry wild night is this!

A living mountain of water The sea upheaves with might.

Here an abyss is yawning; There towers a foaming height.

And sounds of retching and curses Forth from the cabin come; And I, to the mast close clinging, Long to be safe at home.

XIV.

The evening shades are falling, The sea-fog spreads with night.

Mysterious waters are calling, There rises something white.

The mermaid comes from the ocean, Beside me sitting down; Her white breast's breathing motion, I see through the gossamer gown.

And she doth clasp and hold me, In pa.s.sionate, painful way.

Too close thou dost enfold me, Thou lovely water fay!

"Within mine arms I hide thee, With all my strength enfold, I warm myself beside thee, The night is far too cold."

Paler the moon is growing Through shadowy vapors gray.

Thine eyes with tears are flowing, Thou lovely water fay!

"With tears they are not flowing.

As I from waves did rise, Forth from the ocean going, A drop fell in mine eyes."

The sea-mews moan, entreating, What does the mad surf say?

Thy heart is wildly beating, Thou lovely water fay.

"My heart is beating sadly And wild as ever it can, Because I love thee madly, Thou lovely son of man."

XV.

When I before thy dwelling, In early morning pace, How gladly in the window I see thy gentle face.

Thy brown-black eyes in pity, Mine own eyes, wistful scan, "Who art thou, and what lack'st thou, Thou strange, unhappy man?"

I am a German poet, Of goodly German fame, When their best names are spoken, Mine own they are sure to name.

And what I lack, sweet maiden, Most Germans lack the same.

When men name sharpest sorrows, Mine own they are sure to name.

XVI.

The sea outspreading glorious, In the dying sunbeams shone.

We sat by the lonely fisher's house, We sat there mute and alone.

The waters swell, the mists arise, The sea-mew flutters past, And then from out thy loving eyes The tears come flowing fast.

I see them falling on thy hand.

Upon my knees I sink, And from the hollow of thy hand The burning tears I drink.

Since then strange flames my flesh devour, My spent soul disappears, The wretched woman in that hour Poisoned me with her tears.

XVII.

Up yonder on the mountain, There stands a castle tall; There dwelt three beauteous maidens, And I was loved by all.

On Sat.u.r.day Hetty kissed me, And Sunday was Julia's day; On Monday Kunigunda Nigh hugged my breath away.

On Tuesday, in the castle, My maidens gave a ball.

The neighboring lords and ladies Came riding one and all.

But I was not invited.