The Elfking Who rides so late through the windy night? It is the father and his child. He holds the boy, tight in his arm. He holds the boy, warm and safe. Son, why do you hide your face in fear? Father, do you not see the Elfking? The Elfking with his crown and train? My Son, it’s only the mist. You lovely child come with me. Lovely games we’ll play together. There are flowers on the beach and my mother has golden clothes! My father! My father! Can you not hear what the Elfking promises me? Be calm, be calm my boy It’s only the wind in the leaves Lovely boy, will you come with me? My daughters will wait on you My daughters will sing and dance for you and rock you to sleep. My father! My father! Do you not see the Elfking’s daughters there? My son, my son I see it clearly it’s the old willows shining in the moonlight. I love you I’m aroused by your beautiful form And if you won’t come, I will take you by force! My father! My father! He has grabbed me! The Elfking has hurt me! The father shudders. He rides fast. The groaning boy in his arms. Anxious, he reaches the farm. In his arms, the boy is dead.