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Classic and Contemporary Poetry


LYRICAL INTERLUDE: 63 by HEINRICH HEINE

First Line: THE TREES IN THE AUTUMN WIND RUSTLE
Last Line: "THY FOOLISH REVERIE?"
Subject(s): AUTUMN; NIGHT; SEASONS; TREES; WIND; FALL; BEDTIME;

THE trees in the autumn wind rustle,
The night is humid and cold;
I ride all alone in the forest,
And round me my grey cloak I fold.

And as I am riding, before me
My thoughts unrestrainedly roam;
They lightly and airily bear me
To my own dear mistress's home.

The dogs are barking, the servants
With glittering torches appear;
I climb up the winding staircase,
My spurs ring loudly and clear.

In her bright-lighted tapestry chamber,
So full of magical charms,
My own sweet darling awaits me,
I hasten into her arms.

The wind in the leaves is sighing,
The oak thus whispers to me:
"What means, thou foolish young horseman,
"Thy foolish reverie?"



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