Classic Poem

Sei mir gegrüsst, du grosse

Greetings to thee, oh city
Of power and mystery,
That once, within thy bosom,
Shielded my love for me.

Tell me, oh gates and towers,
Where is my loved one, where?
Into your care I gave her;
You should have kept her there.

I do not blame the towers,
They could not stir where they stood,
When she, with her trunks and boxes,
Stole off as fast as she could.

The gates, those fools, they let her
Pass through them — and were still.
Well, fools are always willing
When foolish women will.