O listen well to what I say,
If you go down by the shore,
The maiden loitering by the lake,
Was not of woman born.
O what can you fear, lady gay?
I've loved no one so much as thee,
Or one who's near so beautiful
And who pleases me.
I see a warning on thy head,
That tells of pain and tokens death,
And from thy breast a ghostly worm
Sucks away the breath.
I saw a spirit on the banks,
With flesh that shined like water,
So light, she trod upon the air—
A mermaid's daughter.
I tore a bandage from her skirt,
And wound it tightly round my brow;
She warned the pain would never end,
But surely grow.
Then by the neck I grasped her tight
And drew a knife from out my cloak.
She tore away my hand, and ran
Into the lake.
I mounted up upon my mare,
And lashed her home across the green,
And woefully I told my dame—
Of what I'd seen.
My mother laid me in my bed,
And there she watched me through the night,
And there the maiden sang to me
You'll ne'er see light.
And there she called me to the banks,
And there I wept as I loathed death.
The mermaid fell upon my breast
And stilled my breath.
So listen well to what I say,
If you go down by the shore,
The maiden loitering by the lake,
Was not of woman born.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem