Living
The Moor’s Serenade
Translated by Edgar Alfred Bowring (1908) · From Early Poems: Miscellaneous Poems
To my sleeping dear Zuleima’s
Bosom run, ye tears all burning!
Then will her sweet heart for Abdul
’Gin to beat with tender yearning.
Round my sleeping dear Zuleima’s
Ear disport, ye tears of anguish!
Then will her fair head in vision
Sweet for Abdul’s love straight languish.
O’er my sleeping dear Zuleima’s
Soft hand stream, my heart’s blood gushing!
Then will her sweet hand bear on it
Abdul’s heart’s blood, crimson flushing.
Sorrow is, alas, born voiceless,
In its mouth no tongue is growing,
It hath only tears and sighing,
And blood from the heart’s wounds flowing.
Cite this poem
MLA
Heine, Heinrich. “The Moor’s Serenade.” Translated by Edgar Alfred Bowring. Poetry Codex, poetrycodex.com/poem/heine/16/.
Chicago
Heine, Heinrich. “The Moor’s Serenade.” Translated by Edgar Alfred Bowring. Poetry Codex. https://poetrycodex.com/poem/heine/16/.
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