They are alone, for the mother 
Returns only at night from the field . . . . 
The linden tree soughs through the window, --
And the old woman tells the child
The sunny fairy-tale of happiness.

She tells of the enchanted prince
And the spiteful, glowering fairy;
Of the castle upon the rocky beach,
Of the wild surging of the waves,
And the fisherman’s hut at the lake.

And the prince mourned away year upon year
As a snake in the gloomy vale . . . 
He writhed in glowing chains, --
Only a kiss could save him,
A kiss from rosy lips.

The fisherman's lovely daughter
Had a lofty, radiant spirit.
She broke the golden chains:
But he made the lovely one
His queen!

Grandmother falls silent, and the spinning wheel hums,
And the little girl sits as if mesmerized;
And folds her hands in her lap
And fastens her eyes, her big eyes,
Fixedly dreaming upon the wall.

Grandmother, how lovely, oh how singularly lovely!
Grandmother, oh, were that true!
Grandmother, I would not be afraid, -
How gladly I should embrace the snake
Despite horror and deathly peril!

Why only did they think all that up
If it never happened upon the earth . . . ?
I feel such woe in my soul,
As I feel near the churchyard,
As I feel standing before my father's grave!

Be strong, you trembling heart of the child,
And fight back the tears!
It has deceived us all,
It has tricked us all,
The sunny fairy-tale of happiness!