One leg feels the intense pain of the other,
Do not just hear! Listen this song of care,
Fingers of one hand did not just linger,
Neither they did forget to be part of the oneness, do thee dare?
Werther lying above the suiciade of a chair,
Oh how dead he is, yet his love is still alive!
There Lotte is smiling in the marriage of their,
His grave cried out loud, death ever never helped to terminate love.
The great Johann as a child with sublime hat on hair,
Told the stories of hills very brightly not to pale!
There, sitting not ever alone; the sky was a neighbor,
No need to walk in the beauty which was already within self here.
Tischbein, Johann Heinrich Wilhelm, Goethe in the Roman Campagna, Städel Museum, Frankfurt, 1787.
(I reached the painting from here: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Goethe_in_the_Roman_Campagna)