Heinrich Heine

(13 December 1797 – 17 February 1856 / Dusseldorf)

Heinrich Heine Poems

1. With A Copy Of 'The Rabbi Of Bachwach' 4/20/2010
2. The Voyage 4/20/2010
3. In The Underworld -new- 6/26/2015
4. Zueignung 4/20/2010
5. Wenn Ich, Beseligt 4/20/2010
6. The North Sea -- Second Cycle 4/20/2010
7. The North Sea -- First Cycle 4/20/2010
8. This Mad Carnival Of Loving 4/20/2010
9. Night On The Shore 4/25/2012
10. To Edom! 4/20/2010
11. The Evening Gossip 4/20/2010
12. The Fir-Tree And The Palm 4/20/2010
13. The Hostile Brothers 4/20/2010
14. Morphine 4/20/2010
15. Unterm Weissen Baume 4/20/2010
16. My Darling, We Sat Together 4/20/2010
17. Mein Kind, Wir Waren Kinder 4/20/2010
18. Mein Tag War Heiter 4/20/2010
19. Still Ist Die Nacht 4/20/2010
20. The Tear 4/20/2010
21. Die Lorelei 11/22/2014
22. The Lore-Lei 4/20/2010
23. Where? 4/20/2010
24. New Spring (1831) 4/20/2010
25. The Old Dream Comes Again To Me 4/20/2010
26. Why The Roses Are So Pale 4/20/2010
27. Ich Glaub Nicht An Den Himmel 4/20/2010
28. Der Scheidende 4/20/2010
29. Es Liegt Der Heisse Sommer 4/20/2010
30. Abenddämmerung 12/13/2011
31. Altes Kaminstück 4/20/2010
32. Als Ich, Auf Der Reise 4/20/2010
33. Meergruß 4/20/2010
34. Of Pearls And Stars 4/20/2010
35. Gedächtnisfeier 4/20/2010
36. Der Asra 4/20/2010
37. Ad Finem 4/20/2010
38. Der Tod, Das Ist 4/20/2010
39. Ein Weib 4/20/2010
40. Ich Hatte Einst 4/20/2010
Best Poem of Heinrich Heine

Death And His Brother Sleep (‘morphine’)

There’s a mirror likeness between those two
shining, youthfully-fledged figures, though
one seems paler than the other and more austere,
I might even say more perfect, more distinguished,
than he, who would take me confidingly in his arms –
how soft then and loving his smile, how blessed his glance!
Then, it might well have been that his wreath
of white poppies gently touched my forehead, at times,
and drove the pain from my mind with its strange scent.
But that is transient. I can only, now, be well,
when the other one, so serious and pale,
the older brother,...

Read the full of Death And His Brother Sleep (‘morphine’)

The Asra

Every day so lovely, shining,
up and down, the Sultan’s daughter
walked at evening by the water,
where the white fountain splashes.

Every day the young slave stood
by the water, in the evening,
where the white fountain splashes,
each day growing pale and paler.

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