Here I know, for there’s just hate here.

My yearning for love had made me

conscious of love; inspired by hate,

a soul longs to find love in some place.

And there it dwelled among the dwarfs

in unadulterated joy.

No more about it. That was then.

Queen:

Now then, my dear, let’s have a laugh.

Snow White:

No, laughing wants some delight

other than what is in my breast.

My delight is only to cry.

With kisses and flattery

you goaded the Hunter just now,

spurred him on to murder. You said,

“Run the evil whore through,” shaking

with anger. You called it a game.

O, how the desire for revenge

drove that outrageous game with me,

she who knows not how to fight back.

Lower me into my grave. Then

Snow White’s grave is Snow White’s delight.

I only find delight smiling

in my coffin. There is my joy.

Please lay me beside it.

Queen:

Now you smile, indeed, you’re laughing.

Snow White:

Ah, if only for a moment.

This other thing tells me once more

about the pain and woe you cause.

It wags with its finger, points long,

and shows me with enormous eyes

what you’re up to. Then it whispers,

“Your mother is not your mother.”

The world is never a sweet world.

Love is a leery, wordless hate.

A hunter’s a prince. Life is death.

You are not a good queen, rather

you are a proud and wanton one

who dispatched my bloody Hunter.

He’s dear to you. You flattered him.

You granted him that one sweet kiss

with which you drove him to the kill.

I am his quarry—all of this

speaks of the next bitter moment.

Now you shall hate me twice over.

Queen:

I set him on fire with kisses.

Didn’t I? Isn’t that so? Say it!

Shout it loud in this gentle world,

into the winds and echo it

into the clouds. Carve it likewise

into these tree trunks rank with leaves,

breathe it into these gentle airs

that they, with this subtle fragrance,

broadcast it likewise into spring.

O, then everyone sucks it up,

praising you as the innocent,

calling me the terrible one

for I fed this murder with love,

inflamed it with a poison kiss.

Hey there, Hunter, where’d you go? Come.

Leave this guilt behind. I’ll kiss you,

call you the dearest man of all,

the best, the truest, the strongest and

the handsomest, the boldest man.

Snow White, help me here in my praise.

Snow White:

Enough, enough, you are going mad.

Had I only not opened up

the poisoned wound. Now it’s bleeding

fresh again and will never heal.

If you would but forgive me, Queen.

Queen:

To hell with forgiveness, guilt, shame,

going soft. Hey, my loyal servant!

The Hunter appears.

Hunter:

Did you call, Your Highness?

Queen:

My one and only, let’s kiss first.