Johann Wolfgang von Goethe (1749–1832)

MY peace is gone,

My heart’s in pain;

I’ll never, never

Find peace again.

Where he cannot be

Is a grave for me,

The world and all

Is turned to gall.

My poor, poor head

Is gone astray,

My sense has fled

Oh, quite away.

My peace is gone,

My heart’s in pain;

I’ll never, never

Find peace again.

Out of the window

For him I gaze,

I seek him only

On all my ways.

His noble build,

His bearing high,

The smile on his lips,

The power of his eye!

To hear him talk—

What magic bliss,

To feel his hand,

And—oh, his kiss!

My peace is gone,

My heart’s in pain;

I’ll never, never

Find peace again.

My bosom longs

To hold him fast.

If I could clasp him—

What joy at last!

And I should kiss him

With my last breath,

Till with his kisses

I found my death!