Still, still was the night
but for one soft stirring--
covered by mist,
a lake deep in the forest;
in the reeds, the swans,
their lament echoing...
The maid meanwhile wandered
aimless through the night
her suffering incessant--
no solace, nevermore.
As if hunted
over hill, over dale,
ever deeper into the thicket,
into the dark.
Her heart beat-- raced!--
like thunder within her.
The world was in slumber;
she alone was here.
Alone in her cares,
the lake lay before her:
the swans' complaint
had lured her hither...
Light flashed and flickered,
brightening the night,
a rumbling crash!
The world was awakened.
From shore to shore
the water beat!
It roared and raged
right out to the banks.
The maid was lost,
too fierce her anguish!
The swans, they lured
her in, to them.
She drifted on the waves
out into the darkness
she drifted with the swans
out into the darkness...