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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If fettering sleep
Fast must bind me,
An easy prey
To the basest coward,
This one thing that in deep anguish
I plead for thou must accord!
O shield thou the sleeper
With soul-daunting terrors,

[Firmly.

That by a dauntless
Hero alone
Here on the rock
I may be found!

WOTAN

Too much thou askest—
Too big a boon!

WOTAN.

"Appear, flickering fire,

Encircle the rock with thy flame!

Loge! Loge! Appear!"

BRÜNNHILDE [Clasping his knees.

This one thing
Grant me, O grant me!
The child that is clasping
Thy knees crush dead;
Tread down thy dear one
And shatter the maid;
Let her body perish,
Pierced by thy spear,
But, cruel one, expose her not
To this crying shame!

[With wild ecstasy.

O cause a fire
To burn at thy bidding,
With flame fiercely flaring
Girdle the rock,
And may its tongue lick,
And may its tooth eat
The coward who, daring, rashly
Approaches the terrible spot!

WOTAN

[Overcome and deeply stirred, turns quickly towards Brünnhilde, raises her from her knees and looks into her eyes with emotion.

Farewell, thou valiant,
Glorious child!
Thou the most holy
Pride of my heart,
Farewell! Farewell! Farewell!

[Passionately.

Must we be parted?
Shall I never more
Give thee love's greeting?
Must thou no longer
Gallop beside me,
Nor bring me mead at banquet?
If I must lose thee,
Whom I have loved so,
The laughing delight of my eyes,
For thee there shall burn
A bridal fire brighter
Than ever yet burned for a bride!
Fiercely the flames
Shall flare round thy bed,
Flames dreadful, devouring,
Daunting all cowards;
Let cravens flee
From Brünnhilde's rock!
One only shall set the bride free,
One freer than I, the God!

[Moved and enraptured, Brünnhilde sinks on the breast of Wotan, who holds her in a long embrace; then she throws back her head again, and, still embracing him, gazes into his eyes with emotion and awe.

Those eyes so lovely and bright
That oft with smiles I caressed,
Thy valour
With a kiss rewarding
When, sweetly lisped
By thy childlike mouth,
The praise of heroes I heard:
Those eyes so radiant and fair
That oft in storm on me shone,
When hopeless yearning
My heart was wasting,

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