The Rhinegold & The Valkyrie. The Ring of the Niblung, part 1

Автор

Рихард Вагнер

Жанр

Зарубежная классика

Год написания книги

2018

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A Wölfing tells thee the tale,
And a well-known Wölfing, I trow.

HUNDING

Wondrous and wild the story
Told by thee, valiant guest:
Wehwalt—the Wölfing!
I think that dark rumours anent
This doughty pair have reached me,
Though unknown Wölfe
And Wölfing too.

SIEGLINDE

But tell me further, stranger:
Where dwells thy father now?

SIEGMUND

The Neidungs, starting anew,
Hounded and hunted us down;
But slain by the wolves
Fell many a hunter;
They fled through the wood,
Chased by the game:
Like chaff we scattered the foe.
But trace of my father I lost;
Still his trail grew fainter
The longer I followed;
In the wood a wolf-skin
Was all I found;
There empty it lay:
My father I had lost.—
In the woods I could not stay;
My heart longed for men and for women.—
By all I met,
No matter where,
If friend I sought,
Or woman wooed,
Still I was branded an outlaw;
Ill-luck clung to me;
Whatever I did right,
Others counted it wrong;
What seemed evil to me
Won from others applause.
Grim feuds arose
Wherever I went;
Wrath met me
At every turn;
Longing for gladness,
Woe was my lot:
I called myself Wehwalt therefore,
For woe was all that was mine.

[He looks at Sieglinde and marks her sympathetic gaze.

HUNDING

Thou wert shown no grace by the Norns
That cast thy grievous lot;
No one greets thee as guest
With gladness in his home.

SIEGLINDE

Only cowards would fear
A weaponless, lonely man!—
Tell us, O guest,
How in the strife
At last thy weapon was lost!

SIEGMUND

A sorrowful child
Cried for my help;
Her kinsmen wanted
To wed the maiden
To one whom her heart did not choose.
To her defence
Gladly I hied;
The heartless horde
Met me in fight:
Before me foemen fell.
Fordone and dead lay the brothers.
The slain were embraced by the maid,
Her wrongs forgotten in grief.
She wept wild streams of woe,
And bathed the dead with her tears;
For the loss of her brothers slain
Lamented the ill-fated bride.
Then the dead men's kinsmen
Came like a storm,
Vowing vengeance,
Frantic to fall on me;
Foemen on all sides
Rose and assailed me.
But from the spot
Moved not the maid;