Deep in the wood's recesses cool
I see the fairy dancers glide,
In cloth of gold, in gown of green,
My lord and lady side by side.
But who has hung from leaf to leaf,
From flower to flower, a silken twine—
A cloud of grey that holds the dew
In globes of clear enchanted wine ?
Or stretches far from branch to branch,
From thorn to thorn, in diamond rain ?
Who caught the cup of crystal pure
And hung so fair the shining chain ?
'Tis death, the spider, in his net,
Who lures the dancers as they glide,
In cloth of gold, in gown of green,
My lord and lady side by side.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Tis death, the spider, in his net, Who lures the dancers as they glide, In cloth of gold, in gown of green, My lord and lady side by side.