New love
Jeannette Antonie Bürde, née Milder
In the moonlit forest
I watched the elves a-riding,
I heard their horns sound
I heard their bells ring.
Their white horses, with
golden antlers, flew on
swiftly, like white swans
Travelling through the air.
The queen nodded at me and smiled,
smiled, as she rode overhead;
Was it because of my new love?
Or does it mean death?