In the depths of the sea,
Upon an old tower,
In rocky caves,
There sleeps the storm.

His hair is falling 
Into his face,
His limbs stiffen --
He does not notice,
He sleeps and sleeps.

Then from afar there comes
A confused sound,
It sounds like groaning,
Like a battle song.

In shy haste
It approaches blackly,
In between there sounds
Something like a cry of jubilation:
     Huzzah!  Huzzah!

Ho, how the old one
Leaps from the ground!
Shrilly he whistles, so that
It penetrates the air.

Wildly, he swings himself
Onto his neighing horse,
And about him surges
The train of the clouds,
     Huzzah!  Huzzah!

Now preserve yourself, earth,
Now preserve yourself, sea,
In passion the storm
Comes a-rushing.

Now bow down, forests,
Now kneel, newly sown grain,
Ye waves, leap up,
A king approaches!
     Hail! Hail!

Ye people, flee
And crawl into your houses,
Extinguish the flames now,
[Extinguish] the fires,

That the sanctified
Glow of the hearth
May not turn indignantly
And consume your estate.
     Mercy! Mercy!

There is a rushing upon the heights,
The ground wavers,
The bells pray
With solemn maws:

Lift up your eyes,
The storm is here --
In storm and weather
The Lord is near!
     Hallelujah!