God knows, we two as a couple
Present a curious sight,
The Lady has trouble walking;
Her lover limps outright.
She's like a suffering kitten,
He's sick as an ailing hound;
As far as heads go, neither
Would seem especially sound.
She is a lotus blossom,
The lady-love thinks in her heart;
He is the moon, so he fancies;
He's pale enough for the part.
The lotus flower is unfurling
By moonlight her little purse,
But in place of life-giving essence
All she gets to conceive is verse.
by Heinrich Heine
http://library.minlib.net/search~S9?/aheine%2C+heinri/aheine+heinri/1%2C1%2C5%2CB/frameset&FF=aheine+heinrich+1797+1856&5%2C%2C5
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