Die Lorelei - sung here by Mireille Mathieu

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=P-F3prcPC78


I recall my Mum used to sing this in my childhood, and just hearing it again makes me a tad teary!
Cheers!
R-J


an English translation:
I cannot determine the meaning Of sorrow that fills my breast: A fable of old, through it streaming, Allows my mind no rest. The air is cool in the gloaming And gently flows the Rhine. The crest of the mountain is gleaming In fading rays of sunshine. The loveliest maiden is sitting Up there, so wondrously fair; Her golden jewelry is glist'ning; She combs her golden hair. She combs with a gilded comb, preening, And sings a song, passing time. It has a most wondrous, appealing And pow'rful melodic rhyme. The boatman aboard his small skiff, - Enraptured with a wild ache, Has no eye for the jagged cliff, - His thoughts on the heights fear forsake. I think that the waves will devour Both boat and man, by and by, And that, with her dulcet-voiced power Was done by the Lorelei.