With agony of sundering sense, beholding
Thy mighty flower, blood-coloured death, unfolding!
Lithe limbs and supple shoulders and lips curled,
Curled out to draw me to their monstrous world!
Warm breasts that glow with light ephemeral
And move with passionate music to enthrall,
To charm, to enchant, to seal the entrancing breath.
I fall! Stop! Spare me!—Slay me!
[Tannhäuser enters into an ecstasy.
This is death.