Death Poem by Heinrich Heine
Death
Our death is in the cool of night,
our life is in the pool of day.
The darkness glows, I’m drowning,
the day has tired me with light.
Over my head in leaves grown deep,
sings the young nightingale.
It only sings of love there,
I hear it in my sleep.
Life and death a reality of worldly life.good poem.
A superb life song reflecting a fine confluence one one's life before and after death. Thanks for sharing it here.
Oooh~ Oooh~ Oooh~ Oooh~ Oooh~ Oooh~ Oooh~ Oooh~ Oooh~ Oooh~ Oooh~ Oooh~ Oooh~ Oooh~ Oooh~ Oooh~ Oooh~ Oooh~ Oooh~ Oooh~ Oooh~ Oooh~ Oooh~
oh my God....what a way to portray ones transient to the beyond
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/24/2024 11:33:42 PM # 1.0.0.1119
A chronicle on life and death. A reflecton on the absurdity of life. Good blend of rhyme scheme. Sylva.