The mournful one

Text by Heinrich Heine (1797-1856)
Translated into English by Joseph Massaad 

deutsch - franšais

All are with compassion smitten,
When they see a youth so pale,
With distress and sorrow written
Upon his face, like a tale.

Compassionate breezes are blowing
Coolness for his burning brow;
Smiling comfort would be showing
Once unyielding maiden now.

From the towns maddening bustle,
He flies hastily to the woods;
There the leaves merrily rustle
And the birds sing their joyous moods.

But soon the singing disappears,
Sadly rustle leaf and tree,
When the mournful one slowly nears,
Entering the woods mournfully.