Wotan’s Lament

Daughter of my will, you are seduced.

Unbounded love’s terrible sorrow has cursed

Your stern detachment. I have lost my first

My greatest joy. No more will you produce

The mead Warfather takes from your strong hand

With pride in queen commander of that band

Of warrior maids no god or man can smite

Now wild emotion robs you of that right.

For honour I must exile you, but swear

I will not leave you long abandoned there

Upon the mountain bare. I’ll cast a spell;

Brunnhilde will sleep deep, and will sleep well

Encircled by a ring of raging fire

Till Siegfried wakes you with his cool desire.

First published in Star Tips For Writers Issue 117

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