Angļu parindenis:

Who rides, so late, through night and wind?
It is the father with his child.
He has the boy well in his arm
He holds him safely, he keeps him warm.

My son, why do you hide your face in fear? –
Father, do you not see the Elf-king?
The Elf-king with crown and cape? –
My son, it is a streak of fog. –

"You dear child, come, go with me!
(Very) beautiful games I play with you;
Many colorful flowers are on the beach,
My mother has many a golden robe." –

My father, my father, and do you not hear
What the Elf-king quietly promises me? –
Be calm, stay calm, my child;
Through dry leaves the wind is sighing. –

"Do you, fine boy, want to go with me?
My daughters shall wait on you finely;
My daughters lead the nightly dance,
And rock and dance and sing to bring you in." –

My father, my father, and don't you see there
The Elf-king's daughters in the gloomy place? –
My son, my son, I see it clearly:
There shimmer the old willows so grey. –

"I love you, your beautiful form excites me;
And if you're not willing, then I will use force." –
My father, my father, he's touching me now!
The Elf-king has done me harm! –

It horrifies the father; he swiftly rides on,
He holds the moaning child in his arms,
Reaches the farm with great difficulty;
In his arms, the child was dead.