HEINRICH HEINE - Repositories

HEINRICH HEINE - Repositories HEINRICH HEINE - Repositories

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The waves gleam in the sunshine. They seem of gold to be. When I am dead, my brothers. Oh drop me in the sea. For dearly have I loved it. Like cooling balm descends Upon my heart its current: We were the best of friends. 202

To Angelique Now that heaven smiles in favor, Like a mute shall I still languish,— I, who when unhappy, ever Sang so much about mine anguish? Till a thousand striplings haunted By despair, my notes re-fluted. And unto the woe I chanted, Greater evils still imputed. Oh ye nightingales' sweet choir. That my bosom holds in capture, Lift your joyous voices higher. Let the whole world hear your rapture! 203

The waves gleam in the sunshine.<br />

They seem of gold to be.<br />

When I am dead, my brothers.<br />

Oh drop me in the sea.<br />

For dearly have I loved it.<br />

Like cooling balm descends<br />

Upon my heart its current:<br />

We were the best of friends.<br />

202

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