Nibelungenlied

Kriemhild’s Dream

To us in olden story / are wonders many told Of heroes rich in glory, / of trials manifold: Of joy and festive greeting, / of weeping and of woe, Of keenest warriors meeting, / shall ye now many a wonder know.

There once grew up in Burgundy / a maid of noble birth, Nor might there be a fairer / than she in all the earth: Kriemhild hight the maiden, / and grew a dame full fair, Through whom high thanes a many / to lose their lives soon dooméd were.

’Twould well become the highest / to love the winsome maid, Keen knights did long to win her, / and none but homage paid. Beauty without measure, / that in sooth had she, And virtues wherewith many / ladies else adorned might be.