"On my strand, lovely flowers their blossoms unfold,My mother shall grace thee with garments of gold.
My father, my father, and dost thou not hearThe words that the Erl-King now breathes in mine ear?'Be calm, dearest child, 'tis thy fancy deceives;Tis the sad wind that sighs through the withering leaves.
Photo by Ákos Szabó
Photo by Ian Turnell
My father, my father, and dost thou not hearThe words that the Erl-King now breathes in mine ear?'Be...
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