Hermann Hesse

1877-1962 / Male / German
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How Heavy The DaysHow heavy the days are. / There's not a fire that can warm me, / Not a sun to laugh with me,
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The PoetOnly on me, the lonely one, / The unending stars of the night shine, / The stone fountain whispers its magic song,
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On A JourneyDon't be downcast, soon the night will come, / When we can see the cool moon laughing in secret / Over the faint countryside,
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Lonesome NightYou brothers, who are mine, / Poor people, near and far, / Longing for every star,
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Without YouMy Pillow gazes upon me at night / Empty as a gravestone; / I never thought it would be so bitter
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Lying In GrassIs this everything now, the quick delusions of flowers, / And the down colors of the bright summer meadow, / The soft blue spread of heaven, the bees' song,
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Thinking Of A Friend At NightIn this evil year, autumn comes early... / I walk by night in the field, alone, the rain clatters, / The wind on my hat...And you? And you, my friend?
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At Night On The High SeasAt night, when the sea cradles me / And the pale star gleam / Lies down on its broad waves,
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A Swarm Of GnatsMany thousand glittering motes / Crowd forward greedily together / In trembling circles.
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I Know, You Walk--I walk so often, late, along the streets, / Lower my gaze, and hurry, full of dread, / Suddenly, silently, you still might rise
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