| rdfs:comment | - The night is very dark. Wind gently ruffles the willow trees. All is quiet, or it so appears, around the shores of the small lake. Tamriel's moons reflect in the slightly rippling surface of the water. An owl's questioning call echoes. No lights are shining from the castle nearby; it appears deserted. "Madylina," the ghostly warrior intones. "My Lord, Gerthland," whispers the lovely Madylina as she kneels. "You have come to me again." "Yes," Gerthland responds, "My days are long waiting for the night in which I can see my love."
- The night is very dark. Wind gently ruffles the willow trees. All is quiet, or it so appears, around the shores of the small lake. Tamriel's moons reflect in the slightly rippling surface of the water. An owl's questioning call echoes. No lights are shining from the castle nearby; it appears deserted. "Madylina," the ghostly warrior intones. "My Lord, Gerthland," whispers the lovely Madylina as she kneels. "You have come to me again." "Yes," Gerthland responds, "My days are long waiting for the night in which I can see my love." ... „Madylina,” upiorny wojownik intonuje. …
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| abstract | - The night is very dark. Wind gently ruffles the willow trees. All is quiet, or it so appears, around the shores of the small lake. Tamriel's moons reflect in the slightly rippling surface of the water. An owl's questioning call echoes. No lights are shining from the castle nearby; it appears deserted. As the night wears on and the planet's satellites moves across the heavens, a faint glow appears near the castle. The light slowly moves towards the lake, and upon reaching the shore, stops. A figure, a beautiful woman by any measure, stands looking wistfully into the dark water. Her lantern flickers in the breeze, and illuminates her. Tears are streaming down her cheeks; her gown, once beautiful, is now tattered and stained. The surface of the lake becomes agitated, but not from a wind as the night has become as still as it is dark. Slowly from the water emerges the figure of a man, a warrior, fully adorned in the armor of a knight on the field of battle. He seems to float over the water towards the woman and stop just short of her. "Madylina," the ghostly warrior intones. "My Lord, Gerthland," whispers the lovely Madylina as she kneels. "You have come to me again." "Yes," Gerthland responds, "My days are long waiting for the night in which I can see my love." The lovers stand looking wistfully at each other, unable to touch, unable to kiss, unable to satisfy their unrequited love until the first tinges of dawn start to color the western sky. Gerthland drops something to the ground as does Madylina as each depart. The waters of the lake again take possession of the handsome knight and the beautiful maiden walks slowly back to the castle. As the waters of the lake settle into a gentle ripple and the light of Madylina's lantern disappears, dawn breaks over the lake. On the shore are two beautiful roses--one crimson and the other white as fresh cream. Ripples from the lake overtake the two flowers and pull them into the lake leaving the shore bare as it was in the hours before darkness fell. ... The townfolk around Gerthland Manor tell often of seeing these lovers in their nightly meeting. The Boar's Bristle Inn is always rumbling with conversation about them. Lord Gerthland and Lady Madylina who were betrothed. Lord Gerthland called to battle to defend the land. Hergen, the castle's resident sorcerer, becoming enflamed with love and lust for Madylina only to be rebuked by her. Lord Gerthland's death on the field of battle. Lady Madylina's death by her own hand at the news. Hergen's curse on both their souls that will not allow them to rest until Madylina will agree to become Hergen's consort even in death. Hergen, to this day, wanders the deserted halls of Gerthland Manor hoping that Madylina will agree to his demands. And the lovers continue to meet for a few moments each night on the shores of the lake now known as Lover's Lament. |-|Tłumaczenie (nieoficjalne)= Legenda o Lamencie Kochanków Noc jest bardzo ciemna. Wiatr spokojnie mierzwi wierzbowe drzewa. Wszystko jest ciche, lub takim się wydaje, dookoła wybrzeży małego jeziora. Księżyce Tamriel odbijają się w lekko pomarszczonej powierzchni wody. Sowa pytająco woła echa. Żadne światło nie świeci w pobliskim zamku; wydaje się być opuszczone. Jak noc się ciągnie i satelity planety, poruszają się przez niebiosa, nikła poświata ukazuje się koło zamku. Światło powoli rusza w kierunku jeziora, a dochodząc wybrzeża, zatrzymuje się. Figura, piękna kobieta według każdej skali, stoi patrząc tęsknie w ciemną toń. Jej latarnia błyska w bryzie i oświetla ją. Łzy ciekną w dół po jej polikach; jej suknia, dawniej piękna, teraz poszarpana i poplamiona. Powierzchnia jeziora zaczyna się poruszać, ale nie od wiatru jako że noc stała się tak spokojna jak mroczna. Powoli z wody wyłania się figura mężczyzny, wojownika, całego odzianego w zbroję rycerską z pola bitwy. Wydaje się unosić nad wodą w kierunku kobiety i zatrzymuje się tylko zaraz przed nią. „Madylina,” upiorny wojownik intonuje. „Mój Lord, Gerthland,” szepcze słodka Madylina klękając. „Przybyłeś do mnie ponownie.” „Tak,” Gerthland odpowiada, „Moje dni dłużą się czekając na noc, gdy mogę ujrzeć swą miłość.” Kochankowie stają patrząc tęskno po sobie, niezdolni się dotknąć, niezdolni pocałować, niezdolni zaspokoić swą nieodwzajemnioną miłość, póki nie pierwsze barwy brzasku zaczynają kolorować zachodnie niebo. Herthlanf upuszcza coś na ziemię jak robi też Madylina gdy oboje odchodzą. Wody jeziora ponownie biorą w posiadanie przystojnego rycerza, a piękna dama kroczy powoli na powrót do zamku. Jak wody jeziora spokoją się w delikatnej zmarszczce, a światło latarni Madyliny powoli zanika, świt załamuje się nad jeziorem. Na wybrzeżu są dwie piękne róże – jedna karmazynowa, a druga biała jak świeży krem. Zmarszczki z jeziora obejmują dwa kwiaty i ciągną je wgłąb jeziora pozostawiając wybrzeże łyse jak było godziny nim zapadł mrok. … Mieszkańcy miasta koło Posiadłości Gerthlanda opowiadają często o widywaniu tych kochanków na ich nocnym spotkaniu. Gospoda pod Włosiem Dzika zawsze dudni od rozmów o nich. Lord Gerthland i Lady Madylina, którzy byli zaręczeni. Lord Gerthland wezwany do walki by bronić ziemi. Hergen zamieszkały w zamku czarownik, zapłonął miłością i pożądaniem do Madyliny tylko by zostać przez nią odrzucony. Lord Gerthland umiera na polu bitewnym. Lady Madylina umiera z własnej ręki na tę wieść. Hergen przeklina obie ich dusze, że nie pozwoli im spocząć póki Madylinna nie zgodzi się zostać branką Hergena, nawet pośmiertnie. Hergen po dziś dzień, kroczy po opuszczonych korytarzach Posiadłości Gerthlanf mając nadzieję że Madylina zgodzi się na jego żądania. A kochankowie kontynuują swe spotkania na kilka chwil każdej nocy na wybrzeżach jeziora dziś znanego jako Lament Kochanków.
- The night is very dark. Wind gently ruffles the willow trees. All is quiet, or it so appears, around the shores of the small lake. Tamriel's moons reflect in the slightly rippling surface of the water. An owl's questioning call echoes. No lights are shining from the castle nearby; it appears deserted. As the night wears on and the planet's satellites moves across the heavens, a faint glow appears near the castle. The light slowly moves towards the lake, and upon reaching the shore, stops. A figure, a beautiful woman by any measure, stands looking wistfully into the dark water. Her lantern flickers in the breeze, and illuminates her. Tears are streaming down her cheeks; her gown, once beautiful, is now tattered and stained. The surface of the lake becomes agitated, but not from a wind as the night has become as still as it is dark. Slowly from the water emerges the figure of a man, a warrior, fully adorned in the armor of a knight on the field of battle. He seems to float over the water towards the woman and stop just short of her. "Madylina," the ghostly warrior intones. "My Lord, Gerthland," whispers the lovely Madylina as she kneels. "You have come to me again." "Yes," Gerthland responds, "My days are long waiting for the night in which I can see my love." The lovers stand looking wistfully at each other, unable to touch, unable to kiss, unable to satisfy their unrequited love until the first tinges of dawn start to color the western sky. Gerthland drops something to the ground as does Madylina as each depart. The waters of the lake again take possession of the handsome knight and the beautiful maiden walks slowly back to the castle. As the waters of the lake settle into a gentle ripple and the light of Madylina's lantern disappears, dawn breaks over the lake. On the shore are two beautiful roses--one crimson and the other white as fresh cream. Ripples from the lake overtake the two flowers and pull them into the lake leaving the shore bare as it was in the hours before darkness fell. The townfolk around Gerthland Manor tell often of seeing these lovers in their nightly meeting. The Boar's Bristle Inn is always rumbling with conversation about them. Lord Gerthland and Lady Madylina who were betrothed. Lord Gerthland called to battle to defend the land. Hergen, the castle's resident sorcerer, becoming enflamed with love and lust for Madylina only to be rebuked by her. Lord Gerthland's death on the field of battle. Lady Madylina's death by her own hand at the news. Hergen's curse on both their souls that will not allow them to rest until Madylina will agree to become Hergen's consort even in death. Hergen, to this day, wanders the deserted halls of Gerthland Manor hoping that Madylina will agree to his demands. And the lovers continue to meet for a few moments each night on the shores of the lake now known as Lover's Lament.
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