Favorite Poems, Volume lll: "Death is Coming," by Heinrich Heine

Death is coming--Time to depart;

time to confess what foolish pride

till now did not let me confide:

for you was each beat of my heart!

The coffin's ready. Slowly I'll sink

into the earth. Peace I shall have--

But you, but you, Maria, you will think

of me often and weep beside my grave.

You wring your lovely hands so sadly--

Oh, be consoled! It is our fate,

our human fate, what's  good and great

and lovely ends--and ends badly.

Heinrich Heine

--Translated from the German

by Thomas Dorsett

Es kommt der Tod

Es kommt der Tod--jetzt will ich sagen,
Was zu verschweigen ewiglich
Mein Stolz gebot: für dich, für dich,
Es hat mein Herz für dich geschlagen!

Der Sarg ist fertig, sie vesenken
Mich in die Gruft. da hab ich Ruh,
Doch du, doch du, Maria, du
Wirst weinen oft und mein gendenken.

Du ringst sogar die schönen Hände--
O tröste dich--Das ist das Los,
Das Menschenlos--was gut und gross
Und schön, das nimmt ein schlechtes Ende.

                          --Heinrich Heine

Heinrich Heine (1797-1856) was a major German poet of the nineteenth century. His poems, especially the early ones, celebrate love and rejection with consummate skill. He also wrote several notable ballads, including the famous Lorelei. He was politically involved as well, and knew Karl Marx; he was, as one might suspect,  socially progressive, but did not advocate communism. He moved to France in his thirties and remained there for the rest of his life. He visited Germany on occasion; toward the end of his life, however, he was banned from has native land due to his political views.

Important for the poem discussed here is his liaison with Crescence Eugénie Mirat, a shopgirl whom he met in 1834 when the former was nineteen. She was uneducated, sometimes embarrassingly so, a periodic embarrassment to Heine's friends and acquaintances; the couple quarreled frequently, but remained committed to each other. Heine, who was Jewish, married Crescence, who was Catholic, in 1841.

In 1848, Heine who had been ill, collapsed. He had become paralyzed, perhaps from venereal disease, perhaps from multiple sclerosis. He became bedridden, confined to his 'mattress grave' until his death a decade later. His wife, whom he called 'Mathilde', the 'Maria' of the poem, was his faithful nurse until his death.

Analysis

This poem was found in the poet's legacy. Its heartfelt directness is a convincing fulfillment of Beethoven's dedication to his Missa Solemnis: Vom Herzen; möge es wieder zum Herzen gehen--"From my heart--may it reach yours as well."

Heine had led a full life until the time of his paralysis; his personality was animated more by a joie de vivre quality, rather than by an introverted gloominess, examples of which abound in German Romantic poetry. He writes about death here only because he was, well, dying. Unlike many of his previous poems, there is no ironic detachment; every word comes from direct experience. This adds to the emotional impact of the poem; it is a grand exception to Wilde's dictum that all bad poetry is sincere--for this is indeed a great poem.

In the first three lines, Heine regrets that he had not confessed his love earlier. Mathilde--whose name was changed to the more euphonious Maria in the poem--was, after all, very ignorant. (On a visit to Germany, Mathilde made a disastrous impression on Heine's family). He loved her, but his pride (and occasional embarrassment) forbade him from expressing that love as much as he would have liked.

The poem is not bitter: one of its many strengths lies in the fact that Heine has accepted death and does his best to console his wife, who will miss him greatly.

For me, the masterful stroke of this poem comes at the end. It is, as one might suspect, much more powerful in the original German:

O tröste dich! Es ist das Los,

das Menschenlos, was gut und gross

und schön--das nimmt ein schlechtes Ende.

The beauty and wonder of life is depicted with the long vowels of gut (good), gross (great) and especially schön (beautiful)--all this is dashed by death, and, as the German has it, "takes a bad end." What I love about this phrase is its understatement: the last five words must be read more rapidly and perhaps, sotto voce. This simple statement, which addresses the main theme of the poem, namely that death is inevitable, has all the more impact due to its lack of elaboration. Only true poets can accomplish a feat like that.

We all know the truth of the last three lines. Human beings, all of whom are great but some of whom are truly great, must die, sometimes die at the height of their powers. The inexorability of death and the sorrow it unleashes is indeed our human fate; no one mourns the passing of  bacteria, for instance, which were the only form of life on earth for three and half billion years. The utter devastation and chaos of  annihilation reminds me of one of Emily Dickinson's poems about the dying process, "The Last Night She Lived".  She finishes the poem after the protagonist's demise with these harrowing lines: "And then an awful leisure was/ Belief to regulate."

We all would like to die in accord with a Spanish proverb, namely, that when one is born, one cries and everyone smiles; when one dies after a full life, however, the opposite is true: one smiles while everyone cries.  Let's hope that this is what happened in Heine's last moments. 

Yes, life doesn't end the way we would like. Yes, "death is (indeed)  coming," whether we like it or not. Yet if we lead a good life--as Heine did--and accept the inevitable, we can continue to console and be consoled until our last breath. That's what Heine has outlined in this brilliant poem. Read it carefully. The implication is that love and wisdom can still fulfill, even at the point of death. That is no small consolation.