Sunday, April 2, 2017

My head has wings



Brünnhilde

(springs shouting from rock to rock up
the height on the right)

Hojotoho! hojotoho! heiaha! heiaha!
hojotoho! hojotoho! heiaha! heiaha!
hojotoho! hojotoho! hojotoho! hojotoho!
heiaha ha! hojoho!




(On a high peak she stops, looks into the gorge at
the back, and calls to Wotan.)


Take warning, Father, look to thyself;
storm and strife must thou withstand.
Fricka comes to thee here,
drawn hither in her car by her rams.
Hei! how she swings the golden scourge!




The wretched beasts are groaning with fear;
wheels furiously rattle;
fierce she fares to the fray.
In strife like this I take no delight,
sweet though to me are the fights of men;
then take now thy stand for the storm:
I leave thee with mirth to thy fate.



Hojotoho! hojotoho! heiaha! heiaha!
hojotoho! hojotoho! heiaha! heiaha!
hojotoho! hojotoho! hojotoho! hojotoho!
heiaha ha!


(Brünnhilde disappears behind the mountain
height at the side.)






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