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Die Unbekannte

My golden-haired beauty,

I’m always sure of seeing,

In the Tuileries Gardens,

Under the chestnut trees.

Every day she’s out

With two ugly old ladies –Are they aunts?

Or dragons,

Disguised in women’s clothing?

Could no one give me a clue then,

Of who she was?

I asked my friends,

All of them, but all in vain,

I was nearly ill with passion.

Daunted by the

Of her elderly companions,

And daunted by my own

Even more completely,

I never dared to whisperA single sighed word in passing,

Scarce dared to show my ardour,

By the passion in my glances.

Only today I’ve learnt at

Her name.

She’s called Laura,

Like the beautiful ProvençaleA great poet fell in love with.

She’s called Laura!

Now I’ve got

Far as, long ago,

Petrarch did,

Who praised the lovely

In canzones and sonettos.

She’s called Laura!

Just like Petrarch,

I can try platonic

With her name’s melodic music –He himself achieved no more.

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Heinrich Heine

Heinrich Heine (13 December 1797 – 17 February 1856) was a German poet, writer and literary critic. He is best known outside Germany for his ear…

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