Blume
freia
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Sitting on a stone, I stare
At the seacliffs down below:
Theyâre almost hidden in the mist
And only enlightened by the moon.
Whereâs that sweet and tender love,
That once covered me with grace?
And those eyes, those shining lights!
Eternal gems in Heavenâs air.
Oh, Freia!
Loud and bold my voice is calling
For your love.
Like drops of summer rains, the tears
Run down my heart.
Arise and stab my gloominess!
Oh, Freia!
He, who saddens thinking of your smile,
Is here to ask
For absolution and forgiveness;
He waits for dawn,
But the Sun wonât rise again.
As lonely as that pale lighthouse,
Surrounded by the fog,
I wander now in the dark night