The night is so still, the streets are at rest,
This is the house that my love graced,
This is the town shes long since left,
But the house is here in the selfsame place.
A mans there too, who stands and stares,
And wrings his hands, in violent pain:
When I see his look it makes me scared
The moonlight shows my face again.
You doppel-gänger! You pallid creature!
Why do you act that torment through,
Love, torturing me on this very corner,
For so many nights, those years I knew.
Still Ist Die Nacht
written byHeinrich Heine
© Heinrich Heine