My translation:
Who’s riding late in windy plains wild?
It is the father with his child;
He has the boy held in his arm,
He embraces him close, he keeps him warm.

“My son, why cover your face in such fear?”
“You don’t see the Elf-king father, drawing near?
The King of Elves with crown and tail!”
“My son, it’s merely mist upon the trail.”

“Sweet child, come, walk with me!
Lovely games we’ll play, you’ll see;
Splendid colourful flowers are on the beach,
My mother has robes of gold within reach.”

“My father, my father, you don’t hear?
What the Elf-king promises in my ear?”
“Be calm, stay calm, my child;
In the night-wind the dry leaves spiral.”

“Will you, sweet lad, come with me?
My daughters will care tender as can be;
My daughters shall do their nightly dance,
And rock, and sing you into sleep’s trance.”

“My father, my father, Can you not see
The Elf-king’s daughters waiting for me?”
“My son, my son, I see it clearly
How you’re deceived by old woods dreary.”

“I love you, charming is your beautiful form;
But I’ll force you if you do not conform.”
“My father, my father, he pulls by my arm.
The Elf-king, is doing me harm!”

The father shudders and begins to ride wild,
Holding close his moaning child,
Reaching the yard, halting in dread;
In his arms the child was already dead.

Standard translation:
Who rides so late through the night and wind?
It is the father with his child;
He has the boy in his arms,
He holds him safe, he keeps him warm.

My son, why do you hide your face? –
You see, father, the Elfking not?
The Elfking with his crown and tail? –
My son, it is the fog. –

“You come, dear child, go with me!
Such lovely games I’ll play with you;
Many colourful flowers are on the beach,
My mother has many golden robes.”

My father, my father, and thou hearest not,
What the Elfking quietly promises me? –
Be calm, stay calm, my child;
In the dry leaves the wind is rustling. –

“Will you dear boy, will you come with me?
My daughters shall wait upon you;
My daughters do their nightly dance,
And rock and dance and sing.”

My father, my father, and you do not see there
Elfking’s daughters in that dark place? –
My son, my son, I see it well:
It is the old grey willows. –

“I love you, I’m charmed by your beautiful form;
And you’re not willing, I will use force. ”
My father, my father, he seizes me!
Elfking a suffering has done to me! –

The father shudders, he rides swiftly,
He holds in his arms the moaning child
Reaches the yard with great difficulty;
In his arms the child was dead.

Original in German:
Erlkönig by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe:
Wer reitet so spät durch Nacht und Wind?
Es ist der Vater mit seinem Kind;
Er hat den Knaben wohl in dem Arm,
Er faßt ihn sicher, er hält ihn warm.

Mein Sohn, was birgst du so bang dein Gesicht? –
Siehst, Vater, du den Erlkönig nicht?
Den Erlenkönig mit Kron und Schweif? –
Mein Sohn, es ist ein Nebelstreif. –

“Du liebes Kind, komm, geh mit mir!
Gar schöne Spiele spiel ich mit dir;
Manch bunte Blumen sind an dem Strand,
Meine Mutter hat manch gülden Gewand.”

Mein Vater, mein Vater, und hörest du nicht,
Was Erlenkönig mir leise verspricht? –
Sei ruhig, bleibe ruhig, mein Kind;
In dürren Blättern säuselt der Wind. –

“Willst, feiner Knabe, du mit mir gehn?
Meine Töchter sollen dich warten schön;
Meine Töchter führen den nächtlichen Reihn,
Und wiegen und tanzen und singen dich ein.”

Mein Vater, mein Vater, und siehst du nicht dort
Erlkönigs Töchter am düstern Ort? –
Mein Sohn, mein Sohn, ich seh es genau:
Es scheinen die alten Weiden so grau. –

“Ich liebe dich, mich reizt deine schöne Gestalt;
Und bist du nicht willig, so brauch ich Gewalt.”
Mein Vater, mein Vater, jetzt faßt er mich an!
Erlkönig hat mir ein Leids getan! –

Dem Vater grausets, er reitet geschwind,
Er hält in Armen das ächzende Kind,
Erreicht den Hof mit Mühe und Not;
In seinen Armen das Kind war tot.

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