Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, PICTURES OF TRAVEL: THE BALTIC, PART 1: 2. SUNSET, by HEINRICH HEINE



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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

PICTURES OF TRAVEL: THE BALTIC, PART 1: 2. SUNSET, by                     Poet's Biography
First Line: The glowing ruddy sun descends
Last Line: I sorrow no longer.
Subject(s): Evening; Grief; Moon; Stars; Sunset; Twilight; Sorrow; Sadness


THE glowing ruddy sun descends
Down to the far up-shuddering
Silvery-grey world-ocean;
Airy images, rosily breath'd upon,
After him roll, and over against him,
Out of the' autumnal glimmering veil of clouda
With face all mournful and pale as death,
Bursteth forth the moon,
And behind her, like sparks of light,
Misty-broad, glimmer the stars.

Once in the heavens there glitter'd,
Join'd in fond union,
Luna the goddess and Sol the god,
And around them the stars all cluster'd,
Their little, innocent children.

But evil tongues then whisper'd disunion,
And they parted in anger,
That glorious, radiant pair.

Now, in the daytime, in splendour all lonely,
Wanders the Sun-god in realms on high, --
On account of his majesty
Greatly sung-to and worshipp'd
By haughty, bliss-harden'd mortals.
But in the night-time,
In heaven wanders Luna,
Unhappy mother,
With all her orphan'd starry children,
And she gleams in silent sorrow,
And loving maidens and gentle poets
Devote to her tears and songs.

The gentle Luna! womanly minded,
Still doth she love her beautiful spouse.
Towards the evening, trembling and pale,
Peeps she forth from the light clouds around,
And looks at the parting one mournfully,
And fain would cry in her anguish: "Come!
"Come! the children all long for thee --"
But the disdainful Sun-god,
At the sight of his spouse, 'gins glowing
With still deeper purple,
In anger and grief,
And inflexibly hastens he
Down to his flood-chilly widow'd bed.

* * * * *

Evil and backbiting tongues
Thus brought grief and destruction
E'en 'mongst the godheads immortal.
And the poor godheads, yonder in heaven,
Wander in misery,
Comfortless over their endless tracks,
And death cannot reach them,
And with them they trail
Their bright desolation.

But I, the mere man,
The lowly-planted, the blest-with-death one,
I sorrow no longer.





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