Who rides so late where winds blow wild It is the father grasping his child He holds the boy embraced in his arm He clasps him snugly he keeps him warm My son why cover your face in such fear O don`t you see the Erlking near The Erlking with his crown and train My son the mist is on the plain. Sweet lad o come and join me do Such pretty games I`ll play with you On the shore gay flowers their colors unfold My mother has made you a garment of gold My father my father o can you not hear The promist the Erlking breathes in my ear Be calm stay calm my child lie low In withered leaves the night winds blow Will you sweet lad come along with me My daughters shall care for you tenderly In the nicht my daughters their revelry keep They`ll rock you and dance you and sing you to sleep My father my father o can you not trace The Erlking`s daughters in that gloomy place My son my son I see it clear How grey the ancient willows appear I love you your comeliness charms me my boy And if you`re not willing then force I`ll employ Now father o father he`s seizing my arm The Erlking has done me the cruelist harm The father shudders his ride is wild In his arms he`s holding the shivering child He reaches home with toil and dread In his arms the child was dead Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa. |
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