Why cover the same ground again? ... It goes against my grain to repeat a tale told once, and told so clearly.
Like leaves on trees the race of man is found,- Now green in youth, now withering on the ground; Another race the following spring supplies: They fall successive, and successive rise.
Boy, those Germans have a word for everything!
I'll get out of this city alive, even if it kills me!
Two friends, two bodies with one soul inspired.
Over the wine-dark sea.