A German poet, journalist, essayist, and literary critic Heinrich Heine A German poet, journalist, essayist, and literary critic

1797 - 13 December: Born in Düsseldorf into a Jewish family 1819 - Attends University of Bonn, studying law as his principal subject. 1825 - Conversion to Protestantism; graduation from Göttingen. 1831 - Heine moves to Paris, where he lived for the rest of his life.

1835 - 10 December: Heine's writings, along with those of the liberal group of German writers called Junges Deutschland (Young Germany), are officially banned throughout Germany. 1841 - Marries Crescence- Eugénie Mirat ("Mathilde"). 1848 - Outbreak of revolutions in Berlin, Paris, Milan, Naples, Vienna, Prague. Heine collapses with a painful and paralyzing illness; bedridden for the last eight years of his life. 1856 - 17 February: Dies; buried in Paris at Montmartre.

Die Lorelei A Poem by Heinrich Heine

One of the most famous of Heine's poems was "Die Lorelei" (The Loreley); published in 1827. It is about a beautiful maiden, also called a siren, situated on top of a rock who used her unearthly singing to lure sailors towards their death, sinking their vessels near the rock on which she sits. Most German speaking people know this poem in a version that is sung together with a melody written by Friedrich Silcher (1789-1860).

Loreleyfelsen – St. Goarshausen, Deutschland

Ich weiß nicht, was soll es bedeuten, Daß ich so traurig bin, Ein Märchen aus uralten Zeiten, Das kommt mir nicht aus dem Sinn. Die Luft ist kühl und es dunkelt, Und ruhig fließt der Rhein; Der Gipfel des Berges funkelt, Im Abendsonnenschein. Die schönste Jungfrau sitzet Dort oben wunderbar, Ihr gold'nes Geschmeide blitzet, Sie kämmt ihr goldenes Haar, Sie kämmt es mit goldenem Kamme, Und singt ein Lied dabei; Das hat eine wundersame, Gewalt'ge Melodei. Den Schiffer im kleinen Schiffe, Ergreift es mit wildem Weh; Er schaut nicht die Felsenriffe, Er schaut nur hinauf in die Höh'. Ich glaube, die Wellen verschlingen Am Ende Schiffer und Kahn, Und das hat mit ihrem Singen, Die Loreley getan. I wish I knew the meaning, A sadness has fallen on me. The ghost of an ancient legend That will not let me be. The air is cool in the twilight And gently flows the Rhine; A mountain peak in the setting sun Catches the faltering shine. The highest peak still gleaming Reveals enthroned in the air, A Siren lost in her dreaming Combing her golden hair. With golden combs she caresses Her hair as she sings her song; Echoing through the gloaming Filled with a magic so strong. The boatman has heard, it has bound him In throes of desire and love. He's blind to the reefs that surround him, He sees but the Maiden above. And now the wild waters awaken Then boat and the boatman are gone. And this is what with her singing, The Lorelei has done.