The balmy, moss-hung branches overhear each word we say The shrill chirruping of birds makes me anxious From this wild enchanted forest we could make our getaway But to this prospect you seem blithely oblivious. Let the cherry blossom crumble like old linen in a gale Let lilac leaves fall sullenly in the rain I will take you in my arms far away from this tale To a palace where minstrels pipe their sweet refrain. Your realm, by the sorcerer’s thousand year spell Is protected against me until broken And you truly believe no more beautiful place Than your enchanted wood was ever bespoken. Let leaves no longer glisten in soft new morning light Let moon and stars by our quarrel be occluded I will take you in my arms far away on this night To a seaside town where no-one’s deluded. Which day of the week, which glorious hour Will you crawl to me, cautiously, out of hiding? I will take you in my arms then and carry you away To a safe place where we’re always confiding I will take you by force if my reasoning is spent Didn’t I always overdo it with this insanity? I will take you in my arms, far away to a tent If you think that my palace lacks reality. Yes, I’ll take you in my arms, if you will, to a tent If it’s thought that my palace lacks credibility.
© Tommy Beavitt. Translation, 2008
© Tommy Beavitt. Performance, 2008