My day was happy, fortunate my night. <br />My People loved me when I struck the lyre <br />Of Poetry. Passion was my song, and fire: <br />There it kindled many a lovely light. <br />My summer’s still ablaze but I’ve already <br />Dragged to the barn the crop I brought to birth – <br />And now I have to leave all that the Earth <br />Made so dear to me and loved so dearly! <br />The instrument sinks from my hand. <br />The glass breaks in splinters, that to my lips <br />Overconfidently, I so cheerfully pressed. <br />Oh God! How deeply bitter dying is! <br />How sweet and intimate the life of Man, <br />In this sweet, intimate and earthly nest.<br /><br />Heinrich Heine<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/mein-tag-war-heiter/
