Danse Nocturne

Danse Nocturne
(Intro text)

It is always twilight in Ingelheim,
in the forest the lady slides across
the crumpled leaves entranced by Elbegast.
Her nightclothes sweep the same old lemniscate,
with Elbegast�s wood gauntlets at her waist.
Tired eyes gaze listlessly, with lips shut tight.
The lady longs to end the dance but she
cannot. The only thing she does is dance
and dance and dance. But oh how she can dance!
Gracefully and sweetly; solemnly or
perkily; eagerly, or most often,
reluctantly. However she dances,
she always dances inevitably.