There was a garden, wondrous fair,
I would gladly have wandered there;
Many nice flowers gazed at me,
It was a source of ecstasy…

Little birds were twittering above
Colorful melodies of love;
The sun was red, its rays were gold,
Gay flowers were there to behold.

Many a fragrance rose aloft,
The winds were blowing sweet and soft;
And all things shimmered with a smile,
Showing their splendor for a while.

On that land, where flowers abound,
A marble fountain could be found;
And there a maid, within my sight,
Busily washed a garment white.

Her eyes were soft, her cheeks were fair:
A saintly look with golden hair;
And as I gazed, she seemed to be
So strange and yet well known to me.

The pretty girl, making all speed,
Did hum a song, quite strange indeed:
" Water, water, with magic spell,
Wash my linen and wash it well! "

I went to her; as I drew near,
I whispered: " O please, tell me dear,
You maiden sweet, wondrous and fair
To whom belongs this garment there? "

" Be ready soon " she swiftly said,
" This is the shroud you'll wear when dead! "
And, as she, the fatal words spoke,
The dream, like some large bubble, broke.

And, as enchanted, there I stood
Within a wild and gloomy wood.
The trees strove to reach the sky;
Amazed and thoughtful, there stood I.

Hear! A hollow sound that echoes!
Like many distant axe's blows;
I sped through thickets and bushy space,
Until I reached an open place.

In the green space, in front of me,
Proudly stood a mighty oak-tree;
And lo! My wondrous maiden fair
Chops with her axe the oak-tree there.

Stroke upon stroke, a song she sings
While, unceasing, the axe she swings:
" Iron glittering, iron bright,
Trim me an oak-chest fast and right! "

I went to her; as I drew near,
I whispered: " O please, tell me dear,
You wondrous, sweet maiden of mine,
Why do you trim an oaken-shrine? "

She spoke swiftly; " Time is running,
It's your coffin that I'm trimming! "
And as she, the fatal words spoke,
The dream, like some large bubble, broke.

So drear, so wide, they lay around,
The bleak heather and barren ground;
If felt in a mysterious mood,
And with a shudder, there I stood.

And as I roamed, a gleam of white
Appeared, stealing upon my sight;
I raced toward it, and when there,
Behold, I saw the maiden fair!

On white heath stood the snowy maid,
Digging in deep earth with a spade.
I hardly dared to gaze at her,
She was so fearsome, yet so fair.

The pretty girl, making all speed,
Did hum a song, quite strange indeed:
" O spade, o spade, with your sharp side,
Dig a deep grave, and dig it wide! "

I went to her; as I drew near,
I whispered: " O please, tell me dear,
You maiden sweet, wondrous and fair,
What means this grave that's lying there? "

She spoke swiftly: " Be still! be brave!
I dug for you a quiet cool grave. "
And, as this, the lovely maid replied,
The grave gaped, it opened wide.

And when the grave was in full view,
An icy shudder pierced me through;
And in the grave, so dark and deep,
I fell down …and woke from sleep.