Interpret:

Theatre of Tragedy

Album:

Der Tanz Der Schatten

Behold a jocund morn indeed! - 
Sun on high - birds in sky. 
Yonder the whist firth eathing, 
Fro where a gale erranteth. 


Ye beholdest but the shadow. 
That is a lie! 
Mayhap a tithe of trothplight - 
Lief I am not! 
I deem - e'er and anon! 
My words are but a twist. 
Tis a feigned lie through loathing, 
I say! 
To and fro, save hither, 
Is thy love. 
A dotard gaffer, I daresay... 
Not a loth! - 
But vying for my kinsmen! 
...a sapling not! 
Beautiful tyrant! 
Fiend angelical! 
Dove-feathered raven! 
Wolvish-ravening lamb! 
A hamlet for a slothful vassal - 
Soothing ale for a parched sot. 
Hie to tell me 
What ye judgest as naught; 
I behold the shadow! 
Wherefore call me such names; 
Nay imp am I! 
Thou art my aghast hart - 
Grazing in the glade. 


E'er thou sayest aye! 
That is a lie! 
Thief of a plot! 
Lief I am not! 
Now go to thy tryst! 
My words are but a twist! 
Go, leave, totter! 
Fare well! - with joy I came, 
Until ye dwindlest. 
With rue I leave 
A morsel, nay more, 
Even the orb cannot 
For thy journey 
Help me melt the ice?! 
Hither and thither!