Poems (Follen)/Home-Sickness
For works with similar titles, see Home-Sickness.
HOME-SICKNESS.
[translated from the GERMAN.]
Were I a wild, wild falcon, I 'd soar away on high, And seek my father's dwelling, Beyond the far blue sky.
Against that well-known door then I 'd flap my wings with joy;My mother from the window Sees and admits her boy.
"Dear son!" she 'd say; "O, welcome! How often has my heart Longed sadly to embrace thee; Now here behold thou art!"
Thus, memory still is dreaming Of what can never be. My long-lost home—the loved ones— These eyes may never see.