LITMIR.BIZ

      Against the waves fresh waves are dashing,

      Above the breeze fresh breezes blow;

      Through seas of light new light is flashing,

      And with them all I float and flow.

      But round me rings of fire are gleaming:

      Pale rings of fire – wild eyes of death!

      Why haunt me thus awake or dreaming?

      Methought I left ye with my breath.

      Aye glare and stare with life increasing,

      And leech-like eyebrows arching in;

      Be, if ye must, my fate unceasing,

      But never hope a fear to win.

      He who knows all may haunt the haunting,

      He who fears nought hath conquered fate;

      Who bears in silence quells the daunting,

      And sees his spoiler desolate.

      Oh wondrous eyes of star-like lustre,

      How ye have changed to guardian love!

      Alas! – where stars in myriads cluster

      Ye vanish in the heaven above.

      I hear two bells so softly singing:

      How sweet their silver voices roll!

      The one on yonder hill is ringing,

      The other peals within my soul.

      I hear two maidens gently talking,

      Bohemian maidens fair to see;

      The one on yonder hill is walking,

      The other maiden – where is she?

      Where is she? – when the moonlight glistens

      O'er silent lake or murm'ring stream,

      I hear her call my soul which listens:

      'Oh! wake no more – come, love, and dream!'

      She came to earth-earth's loveliest creature;

      She died – and then was born once more;

      Changed was her race, and changed each feature,

      But oh! I loved her as before.

      We live – but still, when night has bound us

      In golden dreams too sweet to last,

      A wondrous light-blue world around us,

      She comes, the loved one of the Past.

      I know not which I love the dearest,

      For both my loves are still the same;

      The living to my heart is nearest,

      The dead love feeds the living flame.

      And when the moon, its rose-wine quaffing

      Which flows across the Eastern deep,

      Awakes us, Klarà chides me laughing,

      And says, 'We love too well in sleep!'

      And though no more a Vojvod's daughter,

      As when she lived on Earth before,

      The love is still the same which sought her,

      And she is true – what would you more?

      Bright moonbeams on the sea are playing,

      And starlight shines o'er vale and hill;

      I should be gone – yet still delaying,

      By thy loved side I linger still!

      My gold is gone – my hopes have perished,

      And nought remains save love for thee!

      E'en that must fade, though once so cherished:

      Farewell! – and think no more of me!

      'Though gold be gone and hope departed,

      And nought remain save love for me,

      Thou ne'er shalt leave me broken-hearted,

      For I will share my life with thee!

      'Thou deem'st me but a wanton maiden,

      The plaything of thy idle hours;

      But laughing streams with gold are laden,

      And sweets are hidden 'neath the flowers.

      'E'en outcasts may have heart and feeling,

      E'en such as I be fond and true;

      And love, like light, in dungeons stealing,

      Though bars be there, will still burst through.'