I once saw many flowers blooming Upon my way, in indolence I scorned to pick them in my going And passed in proud indifference. Now, when my grave is dug, they taunt me; Now, when I'm sick to death in pain, In mocking torment still they haunt me, Those fragrant blooms of my disdain.
Heinrich HeineAbout author
- Author's profession: Poet, Critic
- Nationality: deutsch
- Born: December 13, 1797
- Died: February 17, 1856
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