Die Stimme Im Sturm

Beyond the borders of this realm
a bard traveled far through the land.
She came with the wind and followed the morning,
the minstrels' freedom is far from all worries...
and so she found the castle on the cliff's edge
and did not recognize the signs:
the darkness of the sky, the storm's song,
which urged her to flee and never return.
But she walked through the gates, to see and to hear...
whose might this castle on the cliff belong to?
She found empty corridors and lonely halls,
silent and deserted, dark and cold.
As if a curse had banished all life,
and she already felt the horror's hand,
when she heard footsteps, echoing in the distance,
and did she not see a figure in the light there?
And she followed the shadow up to the tower,
high above the cliff, in the roaring storm...
and suddenly stopped in her tracks,
as a man emerged from the shadows and darkness.
Terror ran through her and fearful hesitation,
but the light in his eyes drew her in,
and with dark waves surrounding him,
it seemed he fed on her terror...
before he softly began to speak
and asked her to sing her saddest song for him.
But as gentle as his voice first sounded to her,
it pierced her heart like a sword,
So she took the lute, with pain in her gaze
and adapted to her dark face.
She let the strings ring out for him
and began a song about tears and anger.
The sound of her voice filled the rooms,
and her silver song painted glassy dreams,
awakening what else rested in eternal sleep;
yes, even cold stone wept tears of blood...
and just as from colors of word and sound,
a light wove them, piercing even the deepest darkness.
But one thing remained untouched and cold:
the face and gaze of that dark figure.
So she finally asked with a trembling voice:
'What cruel fate has closed