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Classic and Contemporary Poetry


ATTA TROLL; A SUMMER-NIGHT'S DREAM: CAPUT 15 by HEINRICH HEINE

First Line: ROCKY BLOCKS OF SIZE GIGANTIC
Last Line: LOOKING LIKE A SICKLY SPIDER.
Subject(s): DEATH; PAIN; DEAD, THE; SUFFERING; MISERY;

ROCKY blocks, of size gigantic,
All-misshapen and distorted,
Gaze upon me like fierce monsters
Turn'd to stone, from times primeval.

Strange the sight! Grey clouds are hov'ring
High above me, like their double;
They're the pallid counterfeit
Of those wild and stony figures.

In the distance roars the streamlet,
And the wind howls through the fir-trees;
'Tis a noise inexorable,
And as wretched as despair.

Solitude most terrible!
Troops of jackdaws black are sitting
On the batter'd crumbling fir-trees,
Fluttering with their lame wings strangely.

Close beside me goes Lascaro,
Pale and silent, -- I myself, too,
Looking like incarnate madness,
With grim death as my companion.

Wild and wretched is the country;
Lies it 'neath a curse? Methinks I
On the roots of yonder stunted
Tree can marks of blood discover.

It o'ershadoweth a cottage,
Which is modestly half-hidden
In the earth; with meek entreaty
Seems its thatch to gaze upon thee.

They who this poor cot inhabit
Are @3Cagots@1, surviving relics
Of a race that deep in darkness
Lives a sad despised existence.

In the hearts of the Biscayans
Still is rooted fast the loathing
Of Cagots, dark heritage
From dark days of superstition.

In Bagneres cathedral even
Is a narrow grated entrance;
This, the sacristan inform'd me,
Was the door Cagots went in at.

Once to them all other ingress
To the church was interdicted,
And by stealth they had to enter
In God's holy house, like felons.

There, upon a lowly footstool,
Sat the poor Cagots, and pray'd there
All alone, -- as though infected,
Sever'd from the congregation.

But the consecrated tapers
Of this century flare brightly,
And their lustre scares the evil
Shadows of the middle ages!

So outside remained Lascaro,
Whilst I the Cagot's poor cottage
Enter'd, and my hand extended
Kindly to my suff'ring brother.

And I also kiss'd his infant,
Who, close-clinging to the bosom
Of his wife, suck's greedily,
Looking like a sickly spider.



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