January
Monday 23 February 2009 photo 1/1
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Göte var en stor pöt
Who rides so late through night and wild?
It is the father with his child;
his ride is burdened by his effort to hold
that boy in his arms against the cold.
My son, why hide your face in fear?
Oh father, I see the Elfking draw near!
My son, the Elfking with his crown and tail?
It is not him but mist and hail.—
"Oh little boy, come go with me!
Come play my games with youthful glee;
My flowered beach is a wonder to behold,
as is my mother with her dresses of gold."
My father, my father, do I hear right,
what does the Elfking promise this night?
Hush, my child, you're safe in my arm;
and the wind on the leaves offers no harm.
"Fine boy will you not go with me?
My caring daughters for to see;
such daughters as perform a nightly routine
to cradle you with dance and song in that scene."
My father, my father, do you see there
the Elfking's daughters so dark but so fair?
My son, my son I do actually see:
The pasture looks gray underneath that far tree.
"I love you my boy and your beautiful face;
And if you won't come then I'll show you your place!"
My father, my father, I can feel his disdain!
The Elfking has touched me and caused me such pain!
The father is worried and rides with more force,
The weak boy in his arms he spurs on the horse,
and reaching the goal he glances with dread;
for in his strong arms his child lay dead.
Who rides so late through night and wild?
It is the father with his child;
his ride is burdened by his effort to hold
that boy in his arms against the cold.
My son, why hide your face in fear?
Oh father, I see the Elfking draw near!
My son, the Elfking with his crown and tail?
It is not him but mist and hail.—
"Oh little boy, come go with me!
Come play my games with youthful glee;
My flowered beach is a wonder to behold,
as is my mother with her dresses of gold."
My father, my father, do I hear right,
what does the Elfking promise this night?
Hush, my child, you're safe in my arm;
and the wind on the leaves offers no harm.
"Fine boy will you not go with me?
My caring daughters for to see;
such daughters as perform a nightly routine
to cradle you with dance and song in that scene."
My father, my father, do you see there
the Elfking's daughters so dark but so fair?
My son, my son I do actually see:
The pasture looks gray underneath that far tree.
"I love you my boy and your beautiful face;
And if you won't come then I'll show you your place!"
My father, my father, I can feel his disdain!
The Elfking has touched me and caused me such pain!
The father is worried and rides with more force,
The weak boy in his arms he spurs on the horse,
and reaching the goal he glances with dread;
for in his strong arms his child lay dead.
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