Upon a sharp cliff edge
There looms a strong tower
That gazes far across the land,
And defies the storm so proudly.
   Below so dully and heavily
   Rolls the eternal sea;
The waves know neither rest nor repose,
They moil and swirl without end.

Of what use is, oh floodwaters, your agitation?
Your thousand-year-long threatening?
Your rolling waves are mocked
By the sturdy ward of the castle!
   From early morning until sunset,
   You waves break yourself into death;
The waves know neither rest nor repose,
They moil and swirl without end.

Valiant unto death, wave after wave
Shatters its curly head,
And has only managed to steal
A grain of sand from that place.
   Proudly the castle still stands,
   Wave upon wave passes away --
The waves know neither rest nor repose,
They moil and swirl without end.

Then comes the night.  From the west
The spirits storm forth;
Then the still, eternal sea lifts itself
Up to the height of the towers.
   Deep into the crevices hisses
   The spume, whitely and furiously --
The waves know neither rest nor repose,
They moil and swirl without end.

You have placed your trust in the reefs:
Tremble, you who live above!
The floodwaters have seized you
With a thousand-fingered fist.
   Precisely at midnight
   The tower cracks asunder --
The waves know neither rest nor repose,
They moil and swirl without end.