"In moonlight's pale embrace, by waters still,
Beware the Rusalkas' haunting thrill,
Specter of the depths, a maiden fair,
But in her eyes, a deadly stare.

Beneath the surface, she resides,
Where murky depths conceal cursed tides,
With hair of darkness, eyes like death,
She lures the lost with beguiling breath.

Her voice, a siren's mournful wail,
Through the night, a deadly tale,
She weaves her watery web, a wicked snare,
To drown the souls who venture there.

Amidst the reeds and lilies, she'll appear,
A phantom nymph, a vengeful spirit near,
Her skin like porcelain, her heart like ice,
She seeks revenge, her victims pay the price.

Oh, beware the Rusalka's fatal dance,
An enchantress will entrance,
For those who glimpse her, heed this plea,
Lest you, too, become lost to the sea.

In shadows deep, where moon and water blend,
The Rusalka awaits, a tragic end,
So stay away from rivers, lakes, and streams,
And guard your heart from her nocturnal dreams.

For in the dark of night, she does await,
To claim your soul and seal your haunting fate,
The Rusalka, specter of despair,
A ghostly maiden, a deadly snare."