Classic Poem

To Minna

Am I dreaming? Is mine eye
Dimmed? Do I distinctly see?
What! My Minna passing by,
And she will not look at me!
On some dandy's arm to glide,
With a flippant fan to play,
Lost in vanity and pride—
That is not my Minna's way.

On her dainty bonnet toss
Lordly plumes—my gift they were.
Bows which o'er her bosom cross
Whisper:—“Minna, have a care!”
Flowers which myself I grew
On her hair and breast are spread:
Ah! that breast has proved untrue,
Yet the flowers are not dead!

Go, thy flatterers at thy side!
Let me from thy memory fade.
Venal toadies are thy guide;
I despise thee, fickle maid.
Go! For thee beat once a heart,
Throbbing to a noble key;
Now it knows the bitter smart
Of adoring fools like thee.

In thy beauty's wrecked remains
I behold thee all forlorn,
Doomed, in these thy present pains,
Happy days of youth to mourn.
Swallows which in Spring-time pair
Fly before the Northern blast.
Gathering years your wooers scare,
And your friend aside is cast.

Those who once for Minna's kiss
With enraptured fervour sighed,
Now thy vanished beauty miss,
And thy drooping years deride,
Shall not I, then, mock thee too?
Mock thee, Minna?—God forefend!
Rather bitter tears and true
O'er my Minna will I spend.EnglishJohann Christoph Friedrich Von Schiller