BY Heinrich Heine

When a woman痴 false, make haste
And give another your heart;
Or, better still, be rid of the place
Pack up your bags and depart!

Soon you値l find a sea of blue
Circle by weeping willows;
You値l empty your heart of its little rue.
Among the soothing billions.

You値l climb the arduous hill, and drop
An avalanche of sighs;
But when you池e reach the rocky top
You値l hear the eagles-cries.

Then, almost an eagle, you値l startle the air:
Newly-born and free-
You値l feel: what happened to you down there
Was no catastrophe.

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