Sometimes my life feels
somewhere between heaven and hell,
where I at times
fry like a palm tree in the sun
or like a pine
is frozen by the winter
and every time I yearn for the other side
and this is also how it is with my loving
and sometimes I wonder with whom and where
true love lies,
if I really want it
or rather want to stay lonely?
[Reference: Ein Fichtenbaum steht einsam by Heinrich Heine.]
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem