Poem by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, music by Franz Schubert
English lyric version by Corina “Tyigra”
Who rides out so late, through night so drear?
It is the father with child so dear.
The boy is cradled within his arm,
He holds him safely, he keeps him warm.
"My son, what's caused you to tremble in fear?"
"See, father, there, the Elf-king draws near?
The Elven Ruler with cloak and crown?"
"My son, 'tis mist, swirling around."
"Oh lovely child, come way with me!
I've shiny playthings, games to play with thee;
The flowers bloom here in hues untold,
And my Mother's making for you many robes of gold."
"My father, my father, and do you not hear,
The Elf King whispering vows in my ear?"
"Be calm, oh my boy, be at ease;
It's fallen leaves rustling in the breeze."
"My fine little boy, say you'll come with me?
Where my daughters wait just for you to please;
Where my daughters lead ev'ry nightly affair
And swaying and dancing and singing ensnare,
And swaying and dancing and singing ensnare."
"My father, my father, and don't you see there
the Elf-King's daughters' murky lair?"
"My son, my son, I see plain as day:
That elderly willow tree looks so gray."
"I love you, your looks have me all out of sorts;
And if you're not willing, I'll take you by force."
"My father, my father, he's now grabbing me!
Erlkönig's touch is like agony!"
The father's frightened, he rides swift and wild,
In arm he carries the suffering child,
At last through strife they reach homestead;
But in his arms the poor child was dead.
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