Love
Seraphina, 1
Translated by Edgar Alfred Bowring (1908) · From New Poems: Seraphina
Love
When at evening in the forest,
In the dreamlike wood I rove,
Ever doth thy slender figure
Close beside me softly move.
See I not thy gentle features?
Is it not thy veil that stirs?
Can it be the moonlight only
Breaking through the gloomy firs?
Can it be mine own tears only
That I hear all-lightly flow?
Or my loved one, dost thou really
Close beside me weeping go?
Cite this poem
MLA
Heine, Heinrich. “Seraphina, 1.” Translated by Edgar Alfred Bowring. Poetry Codex, poetrycodex.com/poem/heine/168/.
Chicago
Heine, Heinrich. “Seraphina, 1.” Translated by Edgar Alfred Bowring. Poetry Codex. https://poetrycodex.com/poem/heine/168/.
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