I do not know what it means
That I'm so full of woe;
A fairy tale from ancient dreams,
It will not let me go.
The air is chilly and nightfall nears,
As the Rhein river flows gently by.
The summit of the mountain appears
To sparkle in the sunsetting sky.
Above in splendor and awe
Sits the virgin most fair.
Her beauty surpasses all law;
She combs her golden hair.
She combs it with a comb of glitter,
While she sings so wonderfully,
That it makes the mountain snow shiver.
It is a vehement melody.
And there is a fisher in a tiny skiff
The song takes him with wild cry
He does not see the approaching cliff
He simply looks up into the sky.
I believe that the waves before long
Drowned the boat and the fisher died.
This was done by the bewitching song;
That poor fisher was Loreleid!