Emanuel von Geibel
1815-1884
On the top of the garden wall
there quivers a single last vine,
just as in my mind there quivers
painfully a single thought.
I can hardly catch it,
but it will not leave me alone,
alas, not even for one second.
And so I contemplate it, and endure
all the nights and days,
and with me always is the hollow lament,
that you are lost to me.