ERLKÖNIG - J.W. von Goethe

Wer reitet so spät durch Nacht und Wind?
Es ist der Vater mit seinem Kind;
Er hat den Knaben  wohl in dem Arm,
Er faßt ihn sicher, er hält ihn warm.

Mein Sohn, was birgst du so bang dein Gesicht?--
Siehst, Vater, du den Erlkönig nicht?
Den Erlenkönig mit Kron und Schweif?--
Mein Sohn, es ist ein Nebelstreif.--

«Du liebes Kind, komm, geh mit mir!
Gar schöne Spiele spiel ich mit dir;
Manch bunte Blumen sind an dem Strand,
Meine Mutter hat manch gülden Gewand.»

Mein Vater, mein Vater, und hörest du nicht,
Was Erlenkönig mir leise verspricht?--
Sei ruhig, bleibe ruhig, mein Kind;
In dürren Blättern säuselt der Wind.--

«Willst, feiner Knabe, du mit mir gehn?
Meine Töchter sollen mdich warten schön;
Meine Töchter führen den nächtlichen Reihn,
Und wigen und tanzen und singen dich ein.»

Mein Vater, mein Vater, und siehst du nicht dort
Erlkönigs Töchter am düstern Ort?--
Mein Sohn, mein Sohn, ich seh es genau:
Es scheinen die alten Weiden so grau.--

«Ich liebe dich, mich reizt deine schöne Gestalt;
Und bist du nicht willig, so brauch ich Gewalt.»
Mein Vater, mein Vater, jetzt faßt er mich an!
Erlkönig hat mir ein Leids getan!--

Dem Vater grausets, er reitet geschwind,
Er hält in Armen das ächzende Kind,
Erreicht den Hof mit Mühe und Not;
In seinen Armen das Kind war tot.

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In English, translated by Sir Walter Scott:

O who rides by night thro' the woodland so wild?
It is the fond father embracing his child;
And close the boy nestles within his loved arm,
To hold himself fast, and to keep himself warm.

"O father, see yonder! see yonder!" he says;
"My boy, upon what dost thou fearfully gaze?"
"O, 'tis the Erl-King with his crown and his shroud."
"No, my son, it is but a dark wreath of the cloud."

                The Erl-King Speaks
"O come and go with me, thou loveliest child;
By many a gay sport shall thy time be beguiled;
My mother keeps for theee many a fair toy,
And many a fine flower shall she pluck for my boy."

"O father, my father, and did you not hear
The Erl-King whisper so low in my ear?"
"Be still, my heart's darling--my child, be at ease;
It was but the wild blast as it sung thro' the trees."

                        Erl-King
"O wilt thou go with me, thou loveliest boy?
My daughter shall tend thee with care and with joy;
She shall bear three so lightlyt thro' wet and thro' wild,
And press thee, and kiss thee, and sing to my child."

"O father, my father, and saw you not plain
The Erl-King's pale daughter glide past thro' the rain?"
"Oh yes, my loved treasure, I knew it full soon;
It was the grey willow that danced to the moon."

                        Erl-King
"O come and go with me, no longer delay,
Or else, silly child, I will drag thee away."
"O father! O father! now, now, keep your hold,
The Erl-King has seized me--his grasp is so cold!"

Sore trembled the father; he spurr'd thro' the wild,
Clasping close to his bosom his shuddering child;
He reaches his dwelling in doubt and in dread,
But, clasp'd to his bosom, the infant was dead.


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English translation, as adapted to fit the Schubert's music
by Fred Nachbaur, 1999:

O who rides by night thro' woodland (so) wild?
It is the father embracing his child;
And close the boy nestles in his loved arm,
To hold him fast, and to keep him warm.

"O father, see yonder! see yonder!" he says;
"My boy, on what dost (thou) fearfully gaze?"
"O, 'tis the Erl-King with crown and shroud."
"My son, 'tis but a wraith of cloud."

"Come, go with me, thou lovely child;
By many gay sport thy time be beguiled;
My mother keeps for thee many a fair toy,
Many flowers fine shall she pluck for my boy."

"O father, my father, and did you not hear
The ErlKing whisper so low in my ear?"
"Be still now, my dear child, be at ease;
It's but the wind, it sighs thro' the trees."

"O wilt thou go with me, lovely boy?
My own daughters'll tend thee with care and joy;
They shall bear thee so lightly thro' wet and thro' wild,
And press thee, and kiss thee, and sing to my child,
And press thee, and kiss thee, and sing to my child."

"O father, my father, and saw you not plain
Erl-King's pale daughters glide past thro' the rain?"
"My son, my son, I know it full soon;
'Tis but the grey willows that dance to the moon."

"I love thee, child, entranced by thy beautiful form.
If ye be unwilling, must take you by storm."
"O father! O father! He's touched with his arm!
Erl-King has seized me; he's done me harm!"

The father shivers; he spurs thro' the wild,
Holds to his bosom his shuddering child;
Attains the inn with need and dread,
Clasped to his bosom, the child was dead.

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