Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, CATHERINE, by HEINRICH HEINE


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

CATHERINE, by                     Poet's Biography
First Line: A beauteous star arises o'er my night
Last Line: Their ghostly scent still haunts my bosom.
Subject(s): Fate; Kisses; Life; Night; Stars; Destiny; Bedtime


1.

A BEAUTEOUS star arises o'er my night,
A star which smiles down on me comfort bright,
And new life pledges to supply, --
O do not lie!

As leaps to the moon the sea with sullen roar,
So gladly, wildly, doth my spirit soar
Up to thy blissful light on high, --
O do not lie!

2.

"WILL you not be presented to her?"
The duchess whisper'd once to me.
"On no account! for I to woo her
"Methinks have too much modesty."

How gracefully she stands before me!
I fancy, when I near her go,
A newborn life is stealing o'er me,
With newborn joy and newborn woe.

I'm from her kept as though by anguish,
While yearning drives me to draw near;
Her eyes, as they so sweetly languish.
The wild stars of my fate appear.

Her brow is clear, yet in the distance
The future lightning gathers there,
The storm which, spite of all resistance,
My spirit's deepest seat will tear.

Her mouth is lovely, but with terror
I see beneath the roses hiss
The serpents which will prove my error,
With honied scorn and treach'rous kiss

Impell'd by yearning, still more near I
Draw to the dear but dangerous place;
Her darling voice already hear I --
Bright flames her every sentence grace.

"Sir, what's the name" -- I hear her utter
These words -- "Of her whose voice I heard?"
I only answer with a stutter:
"Madam, I did not hear one word!"

3.

YES, I now, a poor magician,
Like sage Merlin, am held fast
In my magic ring at last,
In disconsolate condition.

At her feet imprison'd sweetly
I am lying all the while,
Gazing on her eyes' sweet smile,
And the hours are passing fleetly.

Thus, for hours, days, weeks behold me!
Like a vision time has fled,
Scarcely know I what I said,
And I know not what she told me.

Just as if her lips were dearly
Press'd to mine, beyond control
I am stirr'd, till in my soul
I can trace the flames full clearly.

4.

THOU lie'st in my arms so gladly.
So gladly thou lie'st on my heart!
I am thy one sole heaven,
My dearest star thou art.

The foolish race of mortals
Is swarming far below;
They're shouting and storming and scolding,
(And each one is right, I well know)

Their cap and bells they jingle,
And quarrel without a cause,
And with their heavy club-sticks
They break each other's jaws.

How happy are we, my darling,
That we so far away are;
Thou hidest in thy heaven
Thy head, my dearest star!

5.

I LOVE such white and snowy members,
The thin veil of a spirit tender,
Wild and large eyes, a brow encompass'd
With flowing locks of swarthy splendour.

Thou art indeed the very person
Whom I in every land have sought for,
While girls like thee a man of honour
Like me have always cared and thought for.

The very man thou stand'st in need of
Is found in me. At first thou'lt pay me
Richly with sentiments and kisses,
And then, as usual, wilt betray me.

6.

THE spring's already at the gate
With looks my care beguiling;
The country round appeareth straight
A flower-garden smiling.

My darling sitteth by my side,
In carriage onward fleeting;
She looks on me with tender pride,
Her heart, I feel it beating.

What warbling, what fragrance the sun's light awakes!
Like jewels the verdure is gleaming,
His snowy-blossoming head soon shakes
The sapling with joyous seeming.

The flowers peep forth from the earth to see,
With longing in every feature,
The lovely woman won by me,
And me, the happy creature.

O transient bliss! Across the corn
To-morrow will pass the sickle,
The beauteous spring wither, and I all forlorn
Be left by the woman fickle.

7.

LATELY dreamt I I was walking
In the happy realms of heaven,
Walking with thee, for without thee,
Heaven itself would be a hell.

There I saw th' Elect together,
All the righteous and the godly,
Who had for their souls' salvation
Mortified on earth their bodies.

Fathers of the Church, apostles,
Capuchins and holy hermits,
Strange old fellows, some strange young ones --
'Twas the latter look'd the ugliest!

Very long and saintly faces,
Ample bald pates, also grey beards
(Various Jews were of the number)
Pass'd us, looking stern and solemn.

Not one look upon thee throwing,
Although thou, my pretty darling,
On my arm wert hanging, toying,
Toying, smiling, and coquetting.

One alone upon thee look'd,
And he was the only handsome,
Handsome man of all the number;
And majestic were his features.

Round his lips was human kindness,
In his eyes divine repose,
And he mildly gazed upon thee
As upon the Magdalene.

Ah! I know, he meant it kindly,
None was e'er so pure and noble,
But I, I was notwithstanding
Moved as by an envious feeling;

And, I must confess, I found it
Far from pleasant up in heaven --
May God pardon me! Our Saviour
Jesus Christ I deem'd intrusive

8.

EACH person to this feast enchanting
His mistress takes, and with delight
Roams in the blooming summer night.
I wander alone, for my loved one is wanting.

Like some sick man, I wander all lonely,
And far from the mirth and dancing go,
The music sweet and the lamps' bright glow.
My thoughts are away, and in England only.

I pluck the pinks and I pluck the roses,
Distractedly and full of woe,
And know not on whom the flow'rs to bestow;
My heart soon withers along with the posies.

9.

LONG songless and oppress'd with sadness,
I now compose again with yearning!
Like tears that from us burst with madness
My songs are suddenly returning.

Again I chant, with voice melodious,
Of great love and still greater sorrow;
Of hearts which, to each other odious
To-day, when parted break to-morrow.

I ofttimes think I feel the greeting
Of German oak trees waving o'er me,
With whispers of a glad re-meeting --
A dream! they vanish from before me.

I ofttimes think I hear the singing
Of German nightingales once cherish'd;
Sweetly their notes are round me clinging --
A dream! the vision soon has perish'd.

Where are the roses whose delicious
Perfume once bless'd me? Every blossom
Long since has died! With taint pernicious
Their ghostly scent still haunts my bosom.





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