The Maiden's Heart

Once in an eastern kingdom, there bloomed
A young maiden, lively and merry,
More beautiful than all her peers,
The joy and pride of her noble father.

Yet, it seems, the heart knows no law:
The ruler's daughter fell for a man of no birth.
The maiden burned with reciprocal love;
"He is my chosen one," she told her father—
"He, no other—
My destined one!"

The nobleman cried: "This shall not be!
I'd sooner bury you in the ground!
I refuse to call a beggar my son-in-law,
I'll lock you in a strong tower."

Stone, rock... What is rock to passion?
The maiden grew even dearer to the youth,
The bride burned with tender fervor:
"He is my beloved," she told her father—
"He, no other—
My destined one!"

The despot, gloomier than a dark night,
Imprisoned his daughter in a narrow tower:
"Separated from her love, far from people,
Her folly will fade. He will cool toward her..."

But love knows no walls or locks;
Longing only fuels desire,
The maiden burned with passion in her confinement;
"He is my beloved," she told her father—
"He, no other—
My destined one!"

A dark shadow fell upon the tyrant's spirit;
Pride drove the ruler mad:
The tower, where he jealously guarded his treasure,
He set ablaze with a vengeful hand...

What is a prison to love, what is hotter than fire?
She herself burned with fierce flames!
The captive burned in the stifling dungeon,
Swearing her oath as she perished:
"He, no other—
My destined one!"

The fearsome tower burned to the ground;
What once bloomed turned to ash.
Yet—oh, the miracle of an unknown gift!—
The living heart remained untouched by the fire...

Bitter smoke rose from the ruins;
The youth wept over the gray ashes.
He wept long; his grief grew cold;
A distant horizon beckoned him onward...
"He, no other—
My destined one!"

A tender secret! Beneath the cold ash,
What trembles—is it not the heart?—at times?
The fiery heart was saved from the flames;
Only hidden beneath the ashes.

From the dormant strength of the living heart—
As if from a root watered by a spring
Of abundant tears—in a mysterious time,
A beautiful and delicate flower grew:
A fiery poppy;
Its depths—darkness...

Through foreign lands the youth wandered,
Aimless, not knowing his goal,
Looking around—where is his beloved?
Nowhere and never does he see his dear one!
In dreams of tenderness, he bows his head;
But only hopelessness greets him in waking.

True love does not end even in death;
The celestial crown does not extinguish feeling.
To that distant realm
A sigh reached...

A moan reached her and touched her,
The shadow left her dwelling,
Descended to her beloved, sorrowing in a dream,
Like a fragrant spring,
She spoke: "Listen, my sorrowful one, to my testament!
A scarlet flower has grown over my ashes.
It holds the heart of the burned maiden.
It will intoxicate you with my life.
In the juice of fire,
Drink me!

The honeyed sweetness, the enchanting charm,
The wondrous, healing gift of intoxication,
Squeeze and drink like a bee from the flower:
Black sorrow will leave your soul,
Thus you will be saved, freed from grief.
The magical distance will wash away the earthly;
Its beauties never fade;
You will know peace and bliss—
In the subtle distance
Of a better land!.."

Tender secret, you are dear to the heart!
The wanderer's soul grew merry.
Intoxicated forever by the sacred juice,
He is free, carefree, and courageous.
In the daily change, sorrow will return—
But joy, like paradise, lies deep beyond.
The old burden no longer weighs on him,
The old flame no longer burns him—
In the subtle distance
Of a better land...

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The Maiden's Heart

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