Heinrich Heine on Trees
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βA lonely fir-tree is standing On a northern barren height; It sleeps, and the ice and snow-drift Cast round it a garment of white.β
βIf thou lookest on the lime-leaf, Thou a heart's form will discover; Therefore are the lindens ever Chosen seats of each fond lover.β
βThe oaks with solemnity shook their heads; The twigs of the birch-trees, in token Of warning, nodded,βand I exclaim'd: "Dear Monarch, forgive what I've spoken!"β