Goethe: The Elf King

Who rides so late through night and wind?
It is the father with his child.
He has the boy close in his arms,
he holds him safe, he keeps him warm.

My son, why are you hiding your face in such fear?
Father, don't you see the Elf King?
The Elf King, with crown and tail?
My son, that is a wisp of cloud.

You darling child, come, go with me!
Such nice games I'll play with you,
there are many bright flowers on the beach,
my mother has many golden robes.

My father, my father, and don't you hear
what the Elf King is softly promising me?
Be still, be still, my child,
in the dry leaves the wind is rustling.

Would the young master like to come with me?
My daughters shall wait on you beautifully,
my daughters lead the nightly lines
and they'll rock and dance and sing you in.

My father, my father, and don't you see
the Elf King's daughters in that gloomy place?
My son, my son, I see it quite well:
it's the old willows shining so gray.

I love you, I'm drawn by your handsome form,
and if you aren't willing, I'll take you by force!
My father, my father, he's grabbing me now,
the Elf King has hurt me.

The father shudders, he rides like the wind,
he holds in his arms the moaning child,
reaches the yard with the utmost pains,
in his arms the child was dead.

           --Johann Wolfgang Goethe (1749-1832)

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 geh'n?
Meine Töchter sollen dich warten schön,
Meine Töchter führen den nächtlichen Reihn
Und wiegen und tanzen und singen dich ein.

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

Ich lieb 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 grauset's, er reitet geschwind,
Er hält in den Armen das ächzende Kind,
Erreicht den Hof mit Mühe und Not,
In seinen Armen das Kind war tot.

Comments

[Alexandra]

this is diffrent i never heard Elf King this way when i was young you people should learn like i used to when i was young

[Sedulia]

I think you mean: "This is different. I never heard 'Elf King' this way when I was young. You people should learn as I used to when I was young."

[Elizabeth Hileman]

This is a most moving poem. I prefer the German version.Memories of KHS German class!

[julie maria]

i believe this poem is a real true father protecting his son- from the dangers of unsrupluos men e'g the pedos of this world.