MIDNIGHT[1]
By Ricarda Huch.
To this grave of mine
Come not in the morning,
Come on ways of darkness,
Dearest, by the dim moonshine.
For when through the skies
Bells are tolling midnight,
From my earthly prison
To the lovely air I rise.
In my death-dress white
On my grave I linger,
Watch the stars and measure
Time's placid tread at night.
Come and have no fear!
Can you still give kisses?
I forgot them never
While I slept the winters drear.
Kiss me hard and long.
In the east already
Sings the morning sunlight
—Lack-a-day!— its joyful song.
You were mine again!
Go and taste life's sweetness!—
I in deep, deep darkness
Sleep once more with pain.
- ↑ Translator: Margarete Münsterberg.
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