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She runs to the river down below |
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Towards a boat under a willow |
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Away from the mirror, the loom and the tower |
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Where she yearned for him, hour after hour |
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Under a sky like a dark blue dome |
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Stands the queen of loneliness |
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A skin as white as the rivers foam |
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Which tips the hem of her dress |
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A crown of a pearl garland she wore |
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Blinking to |
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Camelot in moonlight |
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To which she stares, through tears |
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Tears that are clouding her sight |
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A forlorn goddess |
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Seeking for her |
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God Carving in the stern |
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The lady Shallot |
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Like a prophet seeing the entire future |
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She looses the chain |
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While death stretches its hand and lures |
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Seizing her to gain |
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Paralysed and in distress, she floats |
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Into the night by darkness clothe |
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When the lady sings a mournful song |
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Chanting through the spheres of night |
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Where it dissolves at the horizon |
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Like her life |
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Undone... |
