Heinrich Heine

(13 December 1797 – 17 February 1856 / Dusseldorf)

Heinrich Heine Poems

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

Als Ich, Auf Der Reise

Just by chance on my journey
I met my beloved’s kin,
Sister and father and mother
Knew me, and welcomed me in.
They asked me how I was faring,
And said, as I entered the place,
That I wasn’t changed a bit, just
A little thin in the face.
I asked after aunts and cousins,

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