Gunhilde lived very quietly and piously
In her secluded cloister,
Until her Father Confessor seduced her,
Until she eloped with him.

He travelled with her throughout the world,
They lived through storm and tempest;
The monk gambled and cheated,
Becoming finally, a thief.

Gunhilde, alas, you poor woman,
Gunhilde, what have you become?
She remains alone in a foreign land,
Her spouse hangs on the gallows.

She cried until her eyes were red:
Oh no, what have I done!
I want to go home and do penance
And receive punishment for my sins.

She begged her way across the countryside,
She accepted alms,
Until she reached the forest at the edge of the Rhine,
And stood before the cloister.

She knocked at the door of the cloister,
The door opened wide;
She went in and stood right before the Abbess,
And began to cry.

Take in this prodigal child,
Oh Mother, who ran away,
And let her do harsh penance
According to strict church laws.

Gunhilde, tell me, what do you seek here?
Cease such talk,
For you have already been sitting in prayer
In your little cell.

Gunhilde, my holy child,
What are you crying about?
If you want to atone in church,
What shall I do, poor creature?

They showed her to her own little cell,
Although she did not realize [what was happening];
The Angel, that had taken her place,
Suddenly, before her eyes, vanished.