Allnächtlich im Traume

Nightly I see you in dreams - you speak,

With kindliness sincerest,

I throw myself, weeping aloud and weak

At your sweet feet, my dearest.

You look at me with wistful woe,

And shake your golden curls;

And stealing from your eyes there flow

The teardrops like to pearls.

You breathe in my ear a secret word,

A garland of cypress for token.

I wake; it is gone; the dream is blurred,

And forgotten the word that was spoken.

-Heinrich Heine 1827