Es treibt mich hin, es treibt mich her
I am being torn apart
Liederkreis op 24 (Heine) Liederkreis op 24 (Heine)
Heine
I am being torn apart –
I shall see her in just a few hours,
Her, lovelier than all other flowers –
Then, why do you pound so, my faithful heart!
These hours are a lazy lot,
Creeping along to no avail
Lazily, yawning, at the speed of a snail.
Move yourselves, you lazy lot!
A rage to hasten has me in its hold.
The Horae were never in love, that is clear;
Bound by some oath both secret and drear,
They mock love’s hurry which won’t be controlled.
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