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The Loreley Song
Text by Heinrich Heine, 1823, from his "Book of Songs"
English translation by Mark Twain, 1880
Melody by Friedrich Silcher
The name "Loreley" is built out of the ancient words "Lore" (look out for
something) and "Ley" (slate-rock), because the rock offers a great view over the Rhine
valley.
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Heinrich Heine
monument in St. Goarshausen
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I cannot divine what it meaneth,
This haunting nameless pain:
A tale of the bygone ages
Keeps brooding through my brain: |
She combs with comb that is golden,
And sings a weird refrain
That steeps in a deadly enchantment
The listener's ravished brain: |
The faint air cools in the gloaming,
And peaceful flows the Rhine,
The thirsty summits are drinking
The sunset's flooding wine; |
The doomed in his drifting shallop,
Is tranced with the sad sweet tone,
He sees not the yawing breakers,
He sees but the maid alone: |
The loveliest maiden is sitting
High-throned in yon blue air,
Her golden jewels are shining,
She combs her golden hair; |
The pitiless billwos engulf him!
So perish sailor and bark;
And this, with her baleful singing,
Is the Loreley's gruesome work. |
The Manuscript of Friedrich Silcher
with kind permission of Thomas
Kerzel, Schweinfurt
Find an audio record by Carus Quintet on Kerzel's
Loreley page .
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