Off cheerily to the merry hunt,
Ye huntsmen, off to the deer-stalking!
We want to hunt down the deer,
The noble red stag:
The day dawns in freshness,
The stag returns from the field;
Off cheerily into the bushes,
To his habitual feeding track!
 
God gave us this earth
With everything that is upon it.
He taught us how to track the game,
Gave us muskets,
And gave us clear eyes,
And steady hands as well. --
Now tell, of what use would they be
If they remained in lethargic repose?
 
He gave us sun and rain,
And courage in our hearts,
Winds must blow,
Birds must scream,
The seasons of the year must come and go
And everything has its law --
To unify it all
A huntsman's greeting and shot is required!
 
The forest would fall asleep,
The wild game would be spoiled by indolence,
The deer would become sheep,
Path and track would vanish;
If there were no cheery huntsmen,
And the merry crack of the muskets,
Which stir up the forest and the game
With the sounds of whistles and horns.
 
So onward, long live the hunt,
The constant thunderstorm of the world!
Sad folk may toil and moil,
Fools may strive for money!
Evening and morning we endeavour
To perform lusty deeds;
Wife, children, debts, and anxieties
May heaven preserve at home.