Die Lorelei

Die Lorelei

What it may mean I do not know.

I am so sad, I find.

There’s a story from years ago

That will not leave my mind.

The air is cool and darkness falls

And quietly flows the Rhein.

The peak of the mountain sparkles

In the evening rays that shine.

High on the cliff the maiden sits

In beauty and wonder there.

Her golden jewels all gleam with light

As she combs her golden hair.

She combs it with a golden comb

And sings a song in her bower

A song that fills with wonder

With a melody of power.

The boatman in his little boat

Hears the sad song with grief

And only gazing to the height

Sees not the rocky reef.

There is now no boat nor boatman.

In the end the waves have won.

And this from the rock with her singing,

The Lorelei has done.