A blaspheming Frenchman is a spectacle more pleasing to the Lord than a praying Englishman.
Heinrich HeineOur sweetest hopes rise blooming. And then again are gone, They bloom and fade alternate, And so it goes rolling on. I know it, and it troubles My life, my love, my rest, My heart is wise and witty, And it bleeds within my breast.
Heinrich HeineLife is all too wondrous sweet, and the world is so beautifully bewildered; it is the dream of an intoxicated divinity.
Heinrich HeineThe beauteous dragonfly's dancing By the waves of the rivulet glancing; She dances here and she dances there, The glimmering, glittering flutterer fair. Full many a beetle with loud applause Admires her dress of azure gauze, Admires her body's bright splendour, And also her figure so slender...
Heinrich Heine