Читать книгу The Greatest German Classics (Vol. 1-14) - Various - Страница 149

Am I foredoom'd to action and to life,

Would that a god from my distemper'd brain

Might chase this dizzy fever, which impels

My restless steps along a slipp'ry path.

Stain'd with a mother's blood, to direful death;

And pitying, dry the fountain, whence the blood,

For ever spouting from a mother's wounds,

Eternally defiles me!