I do not know what it might bode
That I should be so sad,
A fairytale from long ago
Now will not leave my head.
The air is cool and darkening
Above the quiet Rhine;
The mountaintops are sparkling
In afternoon sunshine.
The loveliest young maiden sits
So beautifully up there,
Her golden jewelry gleams and glints,
She combs her golden hair,
She combs it with a golden brush
And while she combs she sings;
The tune is both miraculous
And overpowering.
It grips the sailor in the ship
With a wild and aching woe;
His eyes are only looking up,
Not at the rocks below.
I believe that in the end the waves
Devoured ship and boy,
And that is what the Lorelei
Accomplished with her voice.
