 | The lion's cub |  |
5
V.
What does she think of me? I ask myself,Who am not ignorant what I think of her.
She thinks I am too old, and she too young
(She Spring, I Autumn), or thinks not at all.
It may be, must be, for she sends no word
That words of mine have reached her. Be it so.
If of herself she does not love me—well.
She need not fear that I shall sue to her.
I am too old for that, and she too young;
But youth like hers (dear youth!) and age like mine—
Did not old Goethe love the young Bettina,
And did not young Bettina love old Goethe?
| The lion's cub | |