O dearest, canst thou tell me why br The rose should be so pale? br And why the azure violet br Should wither in the vale? br br And why the lark should in the cloud br So sorrowfully sing? br And why from loveliest balsam-buds br A scent of death should spring? br br And why the sun upon the mead br So chillingly should frown? br And why the earth should, like a grave, br Be moldering and brown? br br And why it is that I myself br So languishing should be? br And why it is, my heart of hearts, br That thou forsakest me?br br Heinrich Heinebr br