Thursday 27 July 2006

Lorelei

"I don’t know what it could mean,

that I’m so sad: I find,


A fairy-tale, from times unseen,


Won’t vanish from my mind.


The air is cool and it darkens,

And quiet flows the Rhine:

The tops of the mountains sparkle,

In evening’s after-shine.


The loveliest of maidens,

She’s wonderful, sits there,

Her golden jewels glisten,

She combs her golden hair.


She combs it with a comb of gold,

And sings a song as well:

Its strangeness too is old

And casts a powerful spell.


It grips the boatman in his boat

With a wild pang of woe:

He only looks up to the heights,

Can’t see the rocks below.


I believe the waves swallowed

The boat and its boatman,


That’s what, by her singing,


The Lorelei has done."


Heine

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