Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, ATTA TROLL; A SUMMER-NIGHT'S DREAM: CAPUT 16, by HEINRICH HEINE



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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

ATTA TROLL; A SUMMER-NIGHT'S DREAM: CAPUT 16, by                     Poet's Biography
First Line: When thou see'st yon mountain summits
Last Line: Black and long, was onward moving.
Subject(s): Snow


WHEN thou see'st yon mountain summits
From a distance, they are gleaming
As though deck'd with gold and purple,
Proud and princely in the sunlight.

But when close at hand, this splendour
Vanishes, and, as in other
Earthly loveliness and glory,
'Tis the play of lights deceived thee.

What to thee seem'd gold and purple
Is, alas! but common snow,
Common snow, which, pale and wretched,
Lives a weary life and lonely.

Just above me heard I plainly
How the hapless snow was crackling,
To the heartless cold winds telling
All the tale of its white sorrows.

"O, how slowly pass here," sigh'd it,
"In the desert waste the hours!
"O these hours that seem quite endless,
"Like eternities hard frozen!

"Hapless snow! O had I only,
"'Stead of on these mountain summits,
"Fallen into yonder valley,
"Yonder vale, where flow'rs are blooming,

"Then should I have softly melted,
"And become a brook, whilst fairest
"Village maidens in my waters
"Would have washed their smiling faces.

"Yes, perchance I should have floated
"To the ocean, there becoming
"Some fair pearl, and so be destin'd
"To adorn a monarch's crown!"

When I heard this pretty language,
Said I: "Darling snow, I'm doubtful
"Whether such a brilliant future
"Would have met thee in the valley.

"Comfort take! But few amongst you
"Turn to pearls; thou wouldst have fallen
"Probably in some small puddle,
"And become a piece of dirt!"

Whilst I in this friendly fashion
With the snow held conversation,
Came a shot, and from above me
Fell to earth a tawny vulture.

'Twas a joke of friend Lascaro,
Sportsman's joke; and yet his features
Still continued fix'd and solemn,
His gun barrel only smoking.

He in silence tore a feather
From the bird's tail, and then stuck it
On the top of his peak'd felt-hat,
And then hasten'd on as usual.

Wellnigh ghostly 'twas to see him,
As his shadow with the feather
On the white snow of the mountain,
Black and long, was onward moving.





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