Olim Lacus Colueram

Once I dwelt in the lakes,
once I was beautiful,
while I was a swan.
Miserable, miserable!
Now black
and burnt fiercely.

He turns, he turns back the cook;
the pyre burns me fiercely;
now the butler offers me.
Miserable, miserable!
Now black
and burnt fiercely.

Now I lie in a dish,
and I cannot fly,
I see gnashing teeth:
Miserable, miserable!
Now black
and burnt fiercely.