Elisabeth - Peter von Poehl

The beautiful Elisabeth,

Dachs by her feet and spirits rising high.

A falcon and the whitest dove,

With St. Martin’s luck

And a taste for courtly love.

One minute more,

She said, and asked,

Isn’t it strange that even death

Wears a mask.

If it’s to go where young hearts break,

Then I’m too old

And I’ve made too many mistakes.

The beautiful Elisabeth,

Dachs by her feet and spirits rising high.

With secrets not to be revealed,

You have my word,

They wear the wind’s golden seal.