Love
The Return Home, 87
Translated by Edgar Alfred Bowring (1908) · From Pictures of Travel: The Return Home (1823-24)
Love
Death nothing is but cooling night,
And life is nought but sultry day;
Darkness draws nigh, I slumber
Wearied by day’s bright light.
Over my bed ariseth a tree,
There sings the youthful nightingale;
She sings of love exulting,
In dreams ’tis heard by me.
Cite this poem
MLA
Heine, Heinrich. “The Return Home, 87.” Translated by Edgar Alfred Bowring. Poetry Codex, poetrycodex.com/poem/heine/441/.
Chicago
Heine, Heinrich. “The Return Home, 87.” Translated by Edgar Alfred Bowring. Poetry Codex. https://poetrycodex.com/poem/heine/441/.
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