| Siegmund
Looks up and, gazing into her eyes, begins gravely.
|
Not for me the name Friedmund;
Frohwalt fain were I called,
But forced was I to be Wehwalt
Wölfe they called my father;
And I am one of twins:
With a sister twin I was born.
- Soon lost were
- Both mother and maid;
- I hardly knew
- Her who gave me my life,
Nor her with whom I was born.
Warlike and strong was Wölfe,
And never wanting for foes.
- A-hunting oft
- Went the son with the father.
- One day we returned
- Outworn with the chase
And found the wolf’s nest robbed.
- The brave abode
- To ashes was burnt,
- Consumed to dust
- The flourishing oak,
- And dead was the mother,
- Dauntless but slain.
- No trace of the sister
- Was ever found:
The Neidungs’ heartless horde
Had dealt us this bitter blow.
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