Рихард Вагнер: The Rhinegold & The Valkyrie. The Ring of the Niblung, part 1

There comes Loge!
Hot is thy haste
Smoothly to settle
Thy sorry, badly-made bargain!

What is this bargain
That I am blamed for?—
The one with the giants
That thou thyself didst decide?
O'er hill and o'er hollow
Drives me my whim;
House and hearth
I do not crave.
Donner and Froh,
They dream but of roof and room:
Wedding, must have
A home in which to dwell,
A stately hall,
A fortress fast.
It was such Wotan wished.
Hall and house,
Castle, court,
The blissful abode
Now stands complete and strong.
I proved the lordly
Pile myself;
In fear of flaws,
Scanning it close.
Fasolt and Fafner
Faithful I found;
Firm-bedded is each stone.
I was not slothful
Like many here:
Who calls me sluggard, he lies!

Cunningly
Thou wouldst escape!
Warned be, and wisely
Turn from attempts to deceive.
Of all the Gods
I alone stood by thee
As thy friend,
In the gang that trusted thee not.
Now speak, and to the point!
For when the builders at first
As wage Freia demanded,
I gave way only,
Trusting thy word
When thou didst solemnly promise
To ransom the noble pledge.

Perplexed to puzzle,
Plans to ponder
For its redeeming—
That promise I gave;
But to discover
What cannot be,
What none can do,
No man can possibly promise.

See the treacherous
Rogue thou didst trust!

Named art Loge,
But liar I call thee!

Accursèd flame,
I will quench thy fire!

From their shame to shelter,
Foolish folk flout me.

Forbear and let him alone!
Ye wot not Loge's wiles.
His advice,
Given slowly, gains
Both in weight and in worth.

Do not dally;
Promptly pay!

Long waits our reward.

Speak up surly one!
Fail me not!
How far hast thou ranged and roamed?

Still with reproach
Is Loge paid!
Concerned but for thee,
Thorough and swift,
I searched and ransacked
To the ends of the earth
To find a ransom for Freia
Fair to the giants and just.
In vain the search,
Convincing at last
That the world contains
Nothing so sweet
That a man will take it instead
Of woman's love and delight.

Where life moves and has being,
In water, earth and air
I questioned,
Asking of all things,
Where weak still is strength,
And germs only stirring,
What men thought dear—
And stronger deemed—
Than woman's love and delight.
But where life moves and has being
My questions met
But with laughter and scorn.
In water, earth and air
Woman and love
Will none forego.

One man, one only,
I met who, renouncing love,
Prized ruddy gold
Above any woman's grace.
The Rhine's pure-gleaming children
Told me of their sorrow.
The Nibelung,
Night-Alberich,
Wooed for the favour
Of the swimmers in vain,
And vengeance took,
Stealing the Rhinegold they guard.
He thinks it now
A thing beyond price,
Greater than woman's grace.
For their glittering toy
Thus torn from the deep
The sorrowful maids lamented.
They pray, Wotan,
Pleading to thee,
That thy wrath may fall on the robber
The gold too
They would have thee grant them
To guard in the water for ever.
Loge promised
The maidens to tell thee,
And, keeping faith, he has told.

Dull thou must be
Or downright knavish!
In parlous plight myself,
What help have I for others?

The Niblung has much annoyed us;
I greatly grudge him this Rhinegold;
But such his craft and cunning,
He has never been caught.

Other malice
Ponders the Niblung;
Gains he might from gold
Listen, Loge!
Tell us the truth.
What wondrous gift has the gold,
That the dwarf desires it so?

A plaything,
In the waves providing
Children with laughter and sport,
It gives, when to golden
Ring it is rounded,
Power and might unmatched;
It wins its owner the world.

Rumours I have heard
Of the Rhinegold;
Runes of riches
Hide in its ruddy glow;
Pelf and power
Are by the ring bestowed.

Could this gaud,
This gleaming trinket
Forged from the gold,
Be worn by a woman too?

The wife who wore
That glittering charm
Never would lose
Her husband's love—
That charm which dwarfs are welding,
Working in thrall to the ring.

O could but my husband
Come by the ring!

Methinks it were wisdom,
Won I the ring to my service.
But say, Loge,
How shall I learn
To forge and fashion it true?

A magic rune
Can round the golden ring.
No one knows it,
Yet plain the spell to him
Who happy love forswears.

That suits thee not;
Thou art too late too.
Alberich did not delay;
Fearless he mastered
The potent spell,

And wrought aright was the ring.

We should all be
Under the dwarf,
Were not the ring from him wrested.

The ring I must capture!

Lightly now,
Without cursing love it were won.

Just so:
Without guile, as in children's games!

Then tell us how.

By theft!
What a thief stole
Steal thou from the thief;
How better could object be won?
But with baleful arms
Battles Alberich.
Wary, wise
Must be thy scheming,
If the thief thou wouldst confound,

And restore the ruddy
And golden toy,
The Rhinegold, to the maidens.
For this they pray and implore.

The river-maidens?
What profit were mine?