Melt into trance. In the garden of roses
He is loved and loved for his crowned bird-ring.
Laurin the king of the rosy garden
Has a magic cloak the colour of mist,
And he goes invisibly wandering
Far from the bourne of the rosy garden
Like a cloud of pearl and of amethyst.
He seeks a bride for his garden of roses,
For the soulless spirit a human girl ...
(The priest bids me wear my cross and pray) ...