English translations of Gedichte von Goethe: VII, opus 59

Who's riding so late through night, so wild?
It is the father who's holding his child;
He's tucked the boy secure in his arm,
He holds him tight and keeps him warm.

My son, why hide you your face in fear?"
See you not, father, the Erl King near?
The Erl King in his crown and train?"
My son, 'tis but a foggy strain."

Sweet lovely child, come, go with me!
What wonderful games I'll play with thee;
Flowers, most colorful, yours to behold.
My mother for you has garments of gold."

My father, my father, and can you not hear
What Erl King is promising into my ear?"
Be calm, stay calm, o child of mine;
The wind through dried leaves is rustling so fine." 

Wouldst thou, fine lad, go forth with me?
My daughters should royally wait upon thee;
My daughters conduct each night their song fest
To swing and to dance and to sing thee to rest."

My Father, my father, and can you not see
Erl King's daughters, there by the tree?" 
My son, my son, I see it clear;
The ancient willows so grey do appear."  

I love thee, I'm aroused  by thy beautiful form;
And be thou not willing, I'll take thee by storm."
My father, my father, he's clutching my arm!
Erl King has done me a painful harm!"

The father shudders and onward presses;
The gasping child in his arms he caresses;
He reaches the courtyard, and barely inside,
He holds in his arms the child who has died.

There was a King of Thule,
faithful to the grave,
to whom his dying beloved
gave a golden goblet.

Nothing was more valuable to him:
he drained it in every feast;
and his eyes would overflow
whenever he drank from it.

And when he neared death,
he counted the cities of his realm
and left everything gladly to his heir -
except for the goblet.

He sat at his kingly feast,
his knights about him,
in the lofty hall of ancestors,
there in the castle by the sea.

There, the old wine-lover stood,
took a last draught of life's fire,
and hurled the sacred goblet
down into the waters.

He watched it plunge, fill up,
and sink deep into the sea.
His eyes then sank closed
and he drank not one drop more.

The water roared, the water swelled;
a fisherman sat beside,
gazing calmly at his fishing line,
cool to his very heart.
And as he sits there and as he listens,
the waves split
and from the turbulent water
a watery woman bursts up.

She sang to him, and spoke to him:
"Why do you lure my children
with your human wit and cunning,
up here to this deadly glow?
Ah, if you only knew how pleasant the tiny fish
find it below the surface,
you would come down, just as you are,
and you would be well for the first time.

Does not the dear sun refresh itself
and the moon as well, in the sea?
Do they not turn their faces, breathing the waves
and thus becoming doubly fair?
Aren't you tempted by the deep sky,
the moist and transfiguring blue?
Aren't you tempted by your own face
shining in the eternal dew?"

The water roared, the water swelled,
and moistened his naked foot;
and his heart filled with the longing
that he felt at the greeting of his beloved.
She spoke to him, and sang to him;
then all was done for him;
half pulled by her and half sinking himself,
he went down and was never seen again.