The fountain of love is the rose and the lily, the sun and the dove. — Heinrich Heine Copy Share Image
The lotus flower is troubled At the sun's resplendent light; With sunken head and sadly She dreamily waits for the night. — Heinrich Heine Copy Share Image
Like a great poet, Nature produces the greatest results with the simplest means. These are simply a sun, trees, flowers, water and… — Heinrich Heine Copy Share Image
A lonely fir-tree is standing On a northern barren height; It sleeps, and the ice and snow-drift Cast round it a garment… — Heinrich Heine Copy Share Image
The spring's already at the gate With looks my care beguiling; The country round appeareth straight A flower-garden smiling. — Heinrich Heine Copy Share Image
Lyrical poetry is much the same an every age, as the songs of the nightingales in every spring-time. — Heinrich Heine Copy Share Image
Like a great poet, nature produces the greatest results with the simplest means. There are simply a sun, flowers, water, and love. — Heinrich Heine Copy Share Image
Sweet May hath come to love us, Flowers, trees, their blossoms don; And through the blue heavens above us The very clouds… — Heinrich Heine Copy Share Image
Sweet May lies fresh before us, To life the young flowers leap, And through the Heaven's blue o'er us The rosy cloudlets… — Heinrich Heine Copy Share Image
Perfumes are the feelings of flowers, and as the human heart, imagining itself alone and unwatched, feels most deeply in the night-time,… — Heinrich Heine Copy Share Image
Tell me who first did kisses suggest? It was a mouth all glowing and blest; It kissed and it thought of nothing… — Heinrich Heine Copy Share Image
In the marvelous month of May when all the buds were bursting, then in my heart did love arise. In the marvelous… — Heinrich Heine Copy Share Image
A pine tree standeth lonely In the North on an upland bare; It standeth whitely shrouded With snow, and sleepeth there. It… — Heinrich Heine Copy Share Image
Mine is a most peaceable disposition. My wishes are: a humble cottage with a thatched roof, but a good bed, good food,… — Heinrich Heine Copy Share Image
I have a most peaceable disposition. My desires are for a modest hut, a thatched roof, but a good bed, good food,… — Heinrich Heine Copy Share Image
Like a great poet, Nature produces the greatest results with the simplest means. These are simply a sun, trees, flowers, water and… — Heinrich Heine Copy Share Image
The great pulsation of nature beats too in my breast, and when I carol aloud, I am answered by a thousand-fold echo.… — Heinrich Heine Copy Share Image
Perfumes are the feelings of flowers, and as the human heart, imagining itself alone and unwatched, feels most deeply in the night-time,… — Heinrich Heine Copy Share Image
Great genius takes shape by contact with another great genius, but, less by assimilation than by friction. — Heinrich Heine Copy Share
Lo, sleep is good, better is death--in sooth The best of all were never to be born. — Heinrich Heine Copy Share
Ordinarily he was insane, but he had lucid moments when he was merely stupid — Heinrich Heine Copy Share
The beauteous dragonfly's dancing By the waves of the rivulet glancing; She dances here and she dances there, The glimmering, glittering flutterer fair. Full… — Heinrich Heine Copy Share
I am no longer a divine biped. I am no longer the freest German after Goethe, as Ruge named me in healthier days. I… — Heinrich Heine Copy Share
First, I thought, almost despairing, This must crush my spirit now; Yet I bore it, and am bearing- Only do not ask me how. — Heinrich Heine Copy Share
Nothing is more futile than theorizing about music. No doubt there are laws, mathematically strict laws, but these laws are not music; they are… — Heinrich Heine Copy Share
A lonely fir-tree is standing On a northern barren height; It sleeps, and the ice and snow-drift Cast round it a garment of white. — Heinrich Heine Copy Share
“Still is the night, it quiets the streets down, In that window my love would appear; She's long since gone away from this town,… — Heinrich Heine Copy Share
The dragon-fly is dancing,— Is on the water glancing, She flits about with nimble wing, The flickering, fluttering, restless thing. Besotted chafers all admire… — Heinrich Heine Copy Share
There is one thing on earth more terrible than English music, and that is English painting. — Heinrich Heine Copy Share
