Heinrich Heine

When I’m made happy by lovely kisses,
Lying so sweetly in your arms’ prisons,
You mustn’t speak of Germany to me –I just can’t stand it – I have my reasons
Oh, leave me in peace about Germany

Burst out in wailing riot,
Thou darkling martyr-lay,
That in my soul, flame-quiet,
I've borne this many a day

Well, this is awful weather;
Storming with rain and snow
I sit at the window,
Into the darkness below

This mad carnival of loving,
This wild orgy of the flesh,
Ends at last and we two, sobered,
Look at one another, yawning

I Love this white and slender body,
These limbs that answer Love's caresses,
Passionate eyes, and forehead covered With heavy waves of thick, black tresses
You are the very one I've searched for In many lands, in every weather

They loved each other, but
Would admit to the other they could:
As enemies, they saw each other,
And almost died of their love

My child, we were just children,
Two happy kids, that’s all:
We crept into the henhouse,
And hid there in the straw