---

Heinrich Heine - Der Tod, Das Ist
Work rating: Low

Our death is in the cool of night,
Our life is in the pool of day.
The darkness glows, I’m drowning,
Day’s tired me with light.
Over my head in leaves grown deep,
Sings the young nightingale.
It only sings of love there,
I hear it in my sleep.
Source
The script ran 0.001 seconds.