I don’t know what it could mean, br Or why I’m so sad: I find, br A fairy-tale, from times unseen, br Won’t vanish from my mind. br The air is cool and it darkens, br And quiet flows the Rhine: br The tops of the mountains sparkle, br In evening’s after-shine. br The loveliest of maidens, br She’s wonderful, sits there, br Her golden jewels glisten, br She combs her golden hair. br She combs it with a comb of gold, br And sings a song as well: br Its strangeness too is old br And casts a powerful spell. br It grips the boatman in his boat br With a wild pang of woe: br He only looks up to the heights, br Can’t see the rocks below. br The waves end by swallowing br The boat and its boatman, br That’s what, by her singing, br The Lorelei has done.