Adalbert von Chamisso (1781–1803)

AH, since I have seen him,

I believe I’m blind.

Where I glance, forever

Him alone I find.

Evermore his image

In my waking dreams,

Through the deepest darkness

Bright and joyous gleams.

Colourless and dreary

All is on my way!

And I feel so weary

When my sisters play.

I would fain be weeping,

In my room confined;

Ah, since I have seen him,

I believe I’m blind.

I cannot grasp or believe it,

A dream has bewitched me quite.

Why was it that me of all maidens

He raised to this happiest height?

It seemed as if he had spoken:

I am thine eternally—

It seemed—I still must be dreaming!

It cannot, cannot be.

Oh, let me die thus dreaming,

And resting upon his breast,

My death in ecstasy drinking,

In tears of unending rest!