Classic Poem

Du bist ja heut so grambefangen

To-day you are so plunged in sorrow,
I've never seen you more depressed.
Your tears have almost made a furrow;
The sobs still shake within your breast.

Are all your cheerless thoughts still turning
To where your home once used to stand?
Confess, how often you've been yearning
For your beloved Fatherland.

Do you still think of her who sweetly,
With little scoldings, bound you fast?
And how you raged, and how completely
You both made peace and kissed at last.

Do you still think of friends who sought you,
And cherished you through good and ill,
When storms of inner turmoil caught you,
Although your trembling lips were still?

And are you thinking of your mother
And sister, dear as no one else? . . .
Ah now, I think that memories smother
Your pride, and all your hardness melts.

And are you thinking of that fated
Old garden where you often groped
Among the boughs and dreams — and waited
And trembled anxiously — and hoped. . . .

The hour is late. The night is shining
With snow that gleams like splintered glass.
And I must cease this aimless pining,
And dress for company. Alas!