Classic Poem

Das ist des Frühlings traurige Lust!

It is the Springtime's wild unrest.
Blossoming maidens everywhere
Storm through the woods with streaming hair;
Echoing, as they beat their breast,
" Adonis — Adonis! "

As dusk grows thick, the torches flare
And frantic voices fill the night.
With wails, mad laughter, sudden fright,
They seek him, shouting everywhere:
" Adonis — Adonis! "

And he, that boy of beauty, lies
Upon the ground, so strangely dead;
His blood stains all the flowers red,
And every wind, lamenting, cries:
" Adonis — Adonis! "