The water-lily lake

In Mummelsee, in the dark lake,

There bloom many lilies.

They rock, they bend and bow,

Play for the capricious wind.

But when the night descends

And the full moon shines in the heavens

They climb out of water

As maidens on the shore.

The wind blows, it pipes on the reed

The dance melody,

The lilymaidens entwine themselves

Into a ring like a wreath

And hover lightly around in a circle

Faces pale, limbs white,

Until their pale cheeks

Are decorated with sweet Roses.

The storm rages, the reeds pipe

The fir trees rustle

The moon throws shadows

Of the clouds on the hillsides.

And to and fro, through the damp grass

The Roundelay moves without measure

And ever louder swell

The waves upon the shore.

Then an arm rises out of the flood;

A giant clenched fist,

Then a dripping head, reed crowned,

Surrounded by a long beard,

And a loud voice trumpets

So that it echoes in the mountains:

Back in your flood

You ill-mannered lilies."

The dance halts, the maidens cry out

And become yet paler:

Father calls, lo, morning breeze!

Back into the waters!"

The mist climbs out of the valley,

The morning light already dawns,

And lilies sway again

Back and forth in the water.