![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
poliphilo Sunset
The maiden wept on the headland
Because the sun had set.
O, such a sensitive flower she is!
Dry your eyes, my pet,
And sit you down on the headland.
Although the night be black
In twelve short hours or maybe less
The sun will rise at your back.
This is still not quite a translation of Heine but cleaves closer to his words and sentiments. God, but he was a sarky sonofabitch.
The maiden wept on the headland
Because the sun had set.
O, such a sensitive flower she is!
Dry your eyes, my pet,
And sit you down on the headland.
Although the night be black
In twelve short hours or maybe less
The sun will rise at your back.
This is still not quite a translation of Heine but cleaves closer to his words and sentiments. God, but he was a sarky sonofabitch.
