Lorelei

                    Text by Heinrich Heine (1797-1856)
               Translation copyright © 1995 by Walter Meyer

                  I'm looking in vain for the reason
                  That I am so sad and distressed;
                  A tale known for many a season
                  Will not allow me to rest.

                  Cool is the air in the twilight
                  And quietly flows the Rhine;
                  The mountain top glows with a highlight
                  From the evening sun's last shine.

                  The fairest of maiden's reposing
                  So wonderously up there.
                  Her golden treasure disclosing;
                  She's combing her golden hair.

                  She combs it with comb of gold
                  And meanwhile sings a song
                  With melody strangely bold
                  And overpoweringly strong.

                  The boatman in his small craft
                  Is seized with longings, and sighs.
                  He sees not the rocks fore and aft;
                  He looks only up towards the skies.

                  I fear that the waves shall be flinging
                  Both vessel and man to their end;
                  That must have been what with her singing
                  The Lorelei did intend.
 
 
 
 

        retour vers les pages des LORELEÏ