19.05.2008, 10:26
The Nibelungen-Lay
A song there is of grand simplicity,
In noble numbers limpidly complete:
It opens with an idyl pure and sweet
Of maiden love and manly chivalry,
But soon it darkens into tragedy:
As love is turned to hate, the pulses beat
With quick fierce joy of slaughter; yet beneath
Courses a strain of faith and constancy.
A song melodious of the sword and lance,
Full of the memories of an older world.
Fresh of the springtide of an older day:
Of manly strength, yet childlike utterance,
An epic rose with petals half unfurled,
The grand true-hearted Nibelungen-Lay.
A song there is of grand simplicity,
In noble numbers limpidly complete:
It opens with an idyl pure and sweet
Of maiden love and manly chivalry,
But soon it darkens into tragedy:
As love is turned to hate, the pulses beat
With quick fierce joy of slaughter; yet beneath
Courses a strain of faith and constancy.
A song melodious of the sword and lance,
Full of the memories of an older world.
Fresh of the springtide of an older day:
Of manly strength, yet childlike utterance,
An epic rose with petals half unfurled,
The grand true-hearted Nibelungen-Lay.