The Ill-Starred Son
Her dirge still echoes in these woods,
mourning lingers in the vales
As the wind cries on the shore,
her wailing can be heard
Mirthless is this wandering through hollow days
Like a pale ghost I waste away in this foul world
What sin do I atone for in this dreadful way
Why the gods sneer at me as I keep writhing in pain
Where has my dearest gone to
Where sings now my maiden fair
Beneath the darksome waters
Underneath the moonlit waves
Where is our ill-starred son
Where lies our poor stillborn child
Below the silent mound
In the arms of sacred earth
She became weary of the world, tired of this marred life
Burdened with sorrow far too deep, the pain impossible to bear
There is no light at the end of this blackened path
Calm again are the sullen waters before me
If gods shall hearken to me, fate with be benign
I leave these woes behind, depart from these cares
For we shall be reunited on the other side
I descend to my love and caress her forevermore