Love
The Return Home, 13
Translated by Edgar Alfred Bowring (1908) · From Pictures of Travel: The Return Home (1823-24)
The storm strikes up for dancing,
It blusters, pipes, roars with delight;
Hurrah, how the bark is springing!
How merry and wild is the night!
A living watery mountain
The raging sea builds tow’rd the sky;
A gloomy abyss here is gaping,
There, mounts a white tower on high.
A vomiting, cursing, and praying
From the cabin bursts forth ’mid the roar;
I cling to the mast for protection,
And wish I was safely on shore.
Cite this poem
MLA
Heine, Heinrich. “The Return Home, 13.” Translated by Edgar Alfred Bowring. Poetry Codex, poetrycodex.com/poem/heine/367/.
Chicago
Heine, Heinrich. “The Return Home, 13.” Translated by Edgar Alfred Bowring. Poetry Codex. https://poetrycodex.com/poem/heine/367/.
Read this poem with the Codex →