Читать книгу The Greatest German Classics (Vol. 1-14) - Various - Страница 31

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Locks of brown, still bind your captive

In the circle of her face!

I, beloved sinuous tresses,

Naught possess that's worth your grace—

But a heart whose love enduring

Swells in youthful fervor yet:

Snow and mists envelop Etna,

Making men the fire forget.

Yonder mountain's pride so stately

Thou dost shame like dawn's red glow;

And its spell once more bids Hatem

Thrill of spring and summer know.

Once more fill the glass, the flagon!

Let me drink to my desire.

If she find a heap of ashes,

Say, "He perished in her fire!"