I do not know what it means
That I should feel so sad;
There is a tale from olden times
I cannot get out of my mind.
The air is cool, and twilight falls,
And the Rhine flows quietly by;
The summit of the mountains glitters
In the evening sun.
The fairest maiden is sitting
In wondrous beauty up there,
Her golden jewels are sparkling,
She combs her golden hair.
She combs it with a golden comb
And sings a song the while;
It has an awe-inspiring,
Powerful melody.
It seizes the boatman in his skiff
With wildly aching pain;
He does not see the rocky reefs,
He only looks up to the heights.
I think at last the waves swallow
The boatman and his boat;
And that, with her singing,
The Loreley has done.
(Translation by Richard Stokes)
Hôm đó tao đi Berlin chơi. hướng dẫn viên du lịch dẫn tới 1 chỗ trông rất vớ vẩn, chỉ xuống dưới chân có câu thơ như trên. Rồi cô nói chỗ đó chính là nơi Hitler cho đốt sách.
Mấy thi hào dự đoán vl thật, giờ kể tìm đc ông nào dự đoán tương lai của các công ty để mình mua vào thì ngon nhỉ?
The young lady stood by the sea
And sighed long and fearfully,
It touched her so deeply
The sunset.
My girl! be cheerful,
this is an old piece;
Here in front it goes under
and returns from behind.
