la vie en rose

13 June 1989
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  • dieloreley13
A bit has changed since I last wrote something for my bio. Or maybe I'm just in a calmer mood than I was then.

I am:
:: Lorelei :: dL :: Lor :: Christian :: Asian :: Australian :: daughter :: sister :: "mother" :: friend :: student :: procrastinator :: perfectionist :: lover of food :: maker of some foods :: off-and-on-again dieter :: D/G shipper :: reader :: loyal :: somewhat insecure :: wholly loved :: gullible :: smily :: curvy :: snarky :: a Hufflepuff in a Slytherin's skin... or the other way around :: self-centered :: obsessive-compulsive :: housewife-to-be ::

And for those who want to know where my screenname came from, it's from a poem by Heinrich Heine called 'Die Loreley'.

Ich weiß nicht, was soll es bedeuten,
Daß ich so traurig bin,
Ein Märchen aus uralten Zeiten,
Das kommt mir nicht aus dem Sinn.
Die Luft ist kühl und es dunkelt,
Und ruhig fließt der Rhein;
Der Gipfel des Berges funkelt,
Im Abendsonnenschein.

Die schönste Jungfrau sitzet
Dort oben wunderbar,
Ihr gold'nes Geschmeide blitzet,
Sie kämmt ihr goldenes Haar,
Sie kämmt es mit goldenem Kamme,
Und singt ein Lied dabei;
Das hat eine wundersame,
Gewalt'ge Melodei.

Den Schiffer im kleinen Schiffe,
Ergreift es mit wildem Weh;
Er schaut nicht die Felsenriffe,
Er schaut nur hinauf in die Höh'.
Ich glaube, die Wellen verschlingen
Am Ende Schiffer und Kahn,
Und das hat mit ihrem Singen,
Die Loreley getan.

~ Heinrich Heine, 1823

I cannot determine the meaning
Of sorrow that fills my breast:
A fable of old, through it streaming,
Allows my mind no rest.
The air is cool in the gloaming
And gently flows the Rhine .
The crest of the mountain is gleaming
In fading rays of sunshine.

The loveliest maiden is sitting
Up there, so wondrously fair;
Her golden jewelry is glist'ning;
She combs her golden hair.
She combs with a gilded comb, preening,
And sings a song, passing time.
It has a most wondrous, appealing
And pow'rful melodic rhyme.

The boatman aboard his small skiff, -
Enraptured with a wild ache,
Has no eye for the jagged cliff, -
His thoughts on the heights fear forsake.
I think that the waves will devour
Both boat and man, by and by,
And that, with her dulcet-voiced power
Was done by the Loreley ...