Into the deep and rocky gorge

A false light lured me here

I neither care nor worry now

How I shall find my way

often I wandered astray

Along every path, its goal

Our pleasures and sorrows are no more real

Than this mischievous, phantom fay

Down through chasm, where river once rushed

I calmly wend my way

For every stream will reach the sea

And every path, its grave

[ Die Winterreise №9. Will O’ the Wisp (Irrlicht) ~ Wilhelm Muller]