Chamisso: The Castle of Boncourt

I dream of the days of my childhood,

And shake my silvery head.

How haunt ye my brain, O visions,

Methought ye forgotten and dead!

From the shades of the forest uprises

A castle so lofty and great;

Well know I the battlements, towers,

The arching stone-bridge, and the gate.

The lions look down from the scutcheon

On me with familiar face;

I greet the old friends of my boyhood,

And speed through the courtyard space.

There lies the Sphinx by the fountain;

The fig-tree's foliage gleams;

'Twas there, behind yon windows,

I dreamt the first of my dreams.

I tread the aisle of the chapel,

And search for my fathers' graves--

Behold them! And there from the pillars

Hang down the old armor and glaives.

Not yet can I read the inscription;

A veil hath enveloped my sight,

What though through the painted windows

Glows brightly the sunbeam's light.

Thus gleams, O hall of my fathers,

Thy image so bright in my mind,

From the earth now vanished, the ploughshare

Leaves of thee no vestige behind.

Be fruitful, lov'd soil, I will bless thee,

While anguish o'er-cloudeth my brow;

Threefold will I bless him, whoever

May guide o'er thy bosom the plough.

But I will up, up, and be doing;

My lyre I'll take in my hand;

O'er the wide, wide earth will I wander,

And sing from land to land.

Adalbert von Chamisso