Gottfried August Bürger (1747–1794)

Translated by Capel Lofft

LONG like a dove by the fierce falcon driven,

Hither and thither wandered sad my Love;—

And simply it imagined, like a dove,

That it had reached at length its tranquil heaven.

Ah, Faith! to fond delusions vainly given;

And Fate! conceived by none but those who prove;

That home from which it dreaded no remove

Is by the instant stroke of lightning riven!

Hither and thither still it wanders now;

Poor little dove! ’twixt earth and heaven remains

No object for its wing;—the Fates allow

No kindred Heart in solace of its pains;

Not one this desolated Earth contains

That might return its warmth, that might reward its vow.