In the wonderful month of May, As all the buds bloomed, My heart became, With Love consumed In the wonderful month of May, As all the birds did sing, I confessed to her My desire and yearning. Heinrich Heine, Im wunderschönen Monat Mai, 1827 And then??? Heinrich, don't leave us hanging! It all started out so positive! It's an awkward month May, the vitality of blooming buds and oratorio of singing birds luring us into hopeful fantasies, utopian visions of what lies ahead: but what will
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