Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, PICTURES OF TRAVEL: THE BALTIC, PART 1: 8. STORM, by HEINRICH HEINE


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

PICTURES OF TRAVEL: THE BALTIC, PART 1: 8. STORM, by                     Poet's Biography
First Line: The tempest is raging
Last Line: Over the wide and tempest-toss'd sea.
Subject(s): Sea; Storms; Ocean


THE tempest is raging,
It floggeth the billows,
And the billows, fierce-foaming and rearing,
Rise up on high, and with life are all heaving
The snowy watery mountains,
And the small bark climbs o'er them,
Labouring hastily,
And suddenly plungeth it down
In the black, wide-gaping abyss of the flood. --

O sea!
Mother of beauty, the foam-arisen one!
Grandmother of love! O spare me!
Already flutters, corpse-scenting,
The snowy, spirit-like sea-mew,
And wetteth his beak 'gainst the mast,
And longs, -- eager to taste, -- for the heart
Which proclaimeth the fame of thy daughter,
And which thy grandson, the little rogue,
Chose for his plaything.

In vain my entreaties and prayers!
My cry dies away in the blustering storm,
In the wind's battle-shout;
It roars and pipes and crackles and howls,
Like a madhouse of noises!
And, between times, I audibly hear
Harp-strains alluring,
Songs all wild and yearning,
Spirit-melting and spirit-rending,
And the voice I remember!

Far away, on the rock-coast of Scotland,
Where the old grey castle projecteth
Over the wild raging sea,
There at the lofty and arched window,
Standeth a woman, beauteous but ill,
Softly-transparent and marble-pale,
And she's playing her harp and she's singing,
And the wind through her long locks forceth its way
And beareth her gloomy song
Over the wide and tempest-toss'd sea.





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