Away!

The day is in love with darksome night,
The spring's in love with winter;
Life is in love with death—
And thou, thou lovest me!

Thou lovest me—and shadows grim
Already close around thee;
Thy bloom and beauty fade;
Thy soul to death is bleeding.

Ah, let me be! and only love
The butterflies that gaily
Flit i' the scent and sunshine—
Forsake me and my sorrow!
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Author of original: 
Heinrich Heine
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