You source of all goodness,
You source of all power,
You breathe the blossom's gentle breath,
You roar the battle's rolling thunder.

Everywhere are prepared for you
A temple and a feast,
Everywhere are led by you those
Who gladly want to be led.

You see into this heart of mine,
You know its joy and pain,
A candle from home beckons gently,
A Glorifying death calls daringly.

I am here infused
With a child's worship and love,
And outside flames are glowing
That burn down disgrace and guilt.

I am willing to die in a fight
Worthy of ancestors' pride,
Only protect from perdition
By the hearth my wife and my child.

Yours is the love within me
That towards those two does crest,
Yours too the daring instincts
That do so swell my breast.

If it can be done with tender care,
Then let it happen, Lord,
That peace may reign,
And order and quiet remain.

Where that cannot be, guide our work
With light in stormy night,
You, the eternal love and might.
Your will shall be done.

Wherever you want me to go,
I stand at the ready, my Lord!
To offer pious gifts of love,
Or to bravely enter a fight.

Your envoy in battle and abroad,
Your envoy in a quiet home,
I surely shall find my reward,
A rest in a heavenly realm.

Be always greeted by us, oh night,
But doubly so here in the forest,
Where your eyes smile more clandestinely,
Where your footsteps echo more quietly!

Upon the branches' leafy goblets
You pour out your silver,
You hang the moon with its beams
As a lamp for us in the house of leaves.

Soughing little breezes
Are your conversation;
Spinning beams
Are your threads,
Everything that your lips touched soothingly,
Lowers its eye and sinks into sleep!

And yet, - it is too lovely for sleeping,
Therefore arise and wake with the sound of horns,
With the wave-beats of brighter resonances,
That which prematurely lay numbed in slumber!

There is already movement
In the foliage of the forest;
The birds are of the belief
That night has flown.

The wandering deer
Timidly withdraw;
They think that soon
Day will dawn;

The treetops of the forest
Begin to roar mightily;
From the well-spring come sounds
As if it had been awakened;

And we cry out in song:
The night is at home in the forest,
Then for a long time Echo, too, cries:
It is at home in the forest!

Therefore, oh lovely, lovely night, be doubly greeted
By us here in the forest;
Where everything that portrays you to us as beautiful,
Smiles even more beautifully upon us.