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To Jean Sève.
At Bacharach there was a blonde sorceress
Who let all the men around her die of love
Before his tribunal the bishop had her summoned
In advance he absolved her because of her beauty
O beautiful Loreley with eyes full of precious stones
From what magician do you hold your sorcery
I am weary of living and my eyes are cursed
Those who looked at me, bishop, have perished
My eyes are flames and not precious stones
Throw, throw into the flames this sorcery
I burn in these flames O beautiful Loreley
Let another condemn you, you have bewitched me
Bishop you are laughing Pray rather for me to the Virgin
So put me to death and may God protect you
My lover has gone to a faraway land
So put me to death since I love nothing
My heart hurts me so much that I must die
If I looked at myself I would have to die of it
My heart hurts me so much since he is no longer here
My heart hurt me so much from the day he went away
The bishop had three knights come with their lances
Take this mad woman to the convent
Go away Lore in madness go Lore with trembling eyes
You will be a nun clothed in black and white
Then they all four went off along the road
The Loreley implored them and her eyes shone like stars
Knights let me climb this rock so high
To see my beautiful castle one more time
To gaze at myself once more in the river
Then I will go to the convent of virgins and widows
Up there the wind twisted her unrolled hair
The knights cried Loreley Loreley
Far down there on the Rhine a skiff comes
And my lover is in it he has seen me he calls me
My heart grows so sweet it is my lover who comes
She leans over then and falls into the Rhine
For having seen in the water the beautiful Loreley
Her eyes the color of the Rhine her hair of sunlight
Guillaume Apollinaire
Translation generated by Poésies 123 with assistance from the deepseek-chat artificial-intelligence model.
Text published on Poésies 123: https://www.poesies123.com/en/poem-the-loreley-guillaume-apollinaire/