Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

In the twilight of morning to climb to the top of the mountain,--
Thee to salute, kindly star, earliest read more

In the twilight of morning to climb to the top of the mountain,--
Thee to salute, kindly star, earliest herald of day,--
And to await, with impatience, the gaze of the ruler of heaven.--
Youthful delight, oh, how oft lur'st thou me out in the night.

Wept o'er his wounds, or tales of sorrow done,
Shoulder'd his crutch, and show'd how fields were won.

Wept o'er his wounds, or tales of sorrow done,
Shoulder'd his crutch, and show'd how fields were won.

Whoever gives himself up to solitude,
Ah! he is soon alone.
[Ger., Wer sich der Einsamkeit ergiebt,
read more

Whoever gives himself up to solitude,
Ah! he is soon alone.
[Ger., Wer sich der Einsamkeit ergiebt,
Ach! der ist bald allein.]

Beware of her fair hair, for she excels
All women in the magic of her locks;
And read more

Beware of her fair hair, for she excels
All women in the magic of her locks;
And when she winds them round a young man's neck,
She will not ever set him free again.

I make presents to the mother, but think of the daughter.
[Ger., Der Mutter schenk' ich,
Die read more

I make presents to the mother, but think of the daughter.
[Ger., Der Mutter schenk' ich,
Die Tochter denk' ich.]