The lotus flower is troubled
At the suns resplendent light;
With sunken head and sadly
She dreamily waits for the night. – Heinrich Heine
Whenever books are burned men also in the end are burned. – Heinrich Heine
The lotus flower is troubled
At the suns resplendent light;
With sunken head and sadly
She dreamily waits for the night. – Heinrich Heine
Whenever books are burned men also in the end are burned. – Heinrich Heine