Lyrics by Frank DiGiacomo with assistance from Julian R. Pace.

Kuhleborn warns Undine of the dangers of consorting with humans. Undine defends her love and the Prince, asking her father if he knows of laughter and sorrow and the love “which makes all things change”. Mother Hulda, to one side, performs an incantation attempting to foretell the future of her beloved step-daughter, but her vision is clouded.

LYRICS
Kuhleborn:
     I would speak to you of men!
     Seek not their ways; have no dealings with them -
     their eyes are blind, their hands cruel and grasping.
     Their hunger consumes all around them.
     Beware of men, beware!
     Seek not their ways!
     Beware of men! Shun them! Shun them!
     Love! Love!
     Your heart will shrivel in the heat of his embrace!
     With the strands of your hair men will string the harps and lyres
     with which they sing their foolish songs!
     Beware of men! etc.
     Only your song will remain, dwindled to the sad still murmur
     of a lonely cave-bound spring that trickles down forgotten, sunless pools.

Undine:
     Speak you of men?
     Then I would speak of one man
     who would teach me of laughter, of sorrow, of joy!
     His eyes look upon me with what he calls love -
     they look upon me with love!
     His hands are gentle, and he hungers for knowledge!
     Have you heard of laughter? Do you know the sound of joy?
     Have you heard the sound of weeping?
     Does sorrow not fill you with wonder?

Mother Hulda:
     Ancient leaves of ash! Ancient leaves of oak!
     Dry leaves, dead leaves.
     Receive my breath and live again!
     Withered leaves of ash! Hallowed leaves of oak!
     Dry leaves, dead leaves.
     Encircled , tell your tale!
     Green shoots spring to life from the fire-charred earth,
     facing in its turn the devouring flame.
     Soil made from the ash, ash and water both -
     springs from fire-charred earth,
     from the earth unfolds the cool white flower!
     Come once more to life, sorrows long thought dead;
     joys from days gone by all come once more to life
     when now unfolds the cool white flower.
     Red flame comes hot with desire, hungry for the flower -
     - and what can this mean?
     The bloom does not wilt in the fire!
     The flower is not withered and consumed in the red flame of desire!
     Brighter burns the blaze of the hot devouring flame!

Kuhleborn:
     For joy and sorrow are not new to me,
     and I know something of the love of men!
     But they will destroy you, ah, they will destroy you
     as they lay waste from fear, all things,
     all things they do not understand.
     Your heart will shrivel, etc.
     ...even their own fairest dreams they will destroy!
     shun their ways, etc.
     Ah, beware of men!

Undine:
     Do you know that a man can take his sorrow or his joy
     and make of it a song to sing, or fashion a tale to tell?
     Do you know of the love within his heart?
     Do you know of love, which makes all things change?
     of the love within him which makes all things change?
     I have learned of all these things.
     What harm is there in this? What threat is there?
     Ah, I have watched him weep, and laugh, and look at me
     with what he says is love!
     But do you know of love, which makes all things change?
     And I have watched him weep, and laugh.
     I feel nothing but his warmth and strength.
     Ah, what harm? etc.
     And he has learned to sing my song, and my song will never change!
     My song will never change!

Mother Hulda:
     Woe to the flower! And woe to us!
     Does the flame come once more to destroy?
     Ah, but more I cannot see! All is wreathed in smoke!
     Why this veil before me? Why is it hidden from my sight?
     Alas! I know this cannot be the final vision!
     Why is it always veiled from me?
     Why can I not see? Why this awful darkness?
     Must I accept it? Ah, no! I must begin again!

(Disturbed, she destroys the pattern with her stick, and repeats the ritual as before, with other leaves.)

     Ancient leaves of oak! etc.
     Show the path unveiled of things to come!
     Embers, glowing hot! Water, cold as death!
     Ash and water mixed: soil for hope reborn.
     New life springs from death, green shoot from the ash,
     from the char-black earth,
     from the soil once more unfolds the cool white bloom.
     Comes again the flame, raging to consume the flower!
     Alas! For the fire surrounds her! Alas for its searing embrace!
     All is smoke and fire! Can the flower survive?
     All is wreath in smoke; I cannot pierce through the darkness.
     Time after time, my vision is thwarted, the end is kept from me.
     Am I powerless to see where her path must lead?
     Never has my vision failed me.
     Must I at last leave her to the path that she must choose
     with no advice, no counsel, alone?

(She stares astonished into the pattern of leaves before her.)
 
    Nothing! Nothing!