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C.D. Warner, et al., comp. The Library of the World’s Best Literature.
An Anthology in Thirty Volumes. 1917.


By Heinrich Heine (1797–1856)

From the ‘Romances’: Translation of Ernest Beard

SAY, my golden ducats, say,

Whither are you fled away?

Are ye with the golden fishes

In the little rushing river,

Gaily darting hither, thither?

Are ye with the golden blossoms

On the meadows green and fair,

Sparkling in the dewy air?

Are ye with the golden songsters

Sweeping through the azure sky,

Flashing splendor to the eye?

Are ye with the golden stars,

Clusters of refulgent light,

Smiling through the summer night?

Well-a-day! my golden ducats

Do not in the river lie,

Do not sparkle in the dew,

Do not flash across the blue,

Do not twinkle in the sky;

But my creditors can tell

Where my golden ducats dwell.