"Knight, the faithful love of a sister
Is what this heart can dedicate to you,
Ask for no other love
For that would be painful to me.
I can be calm when you appear 
And calm if I see you leave;
It is the quiet weeping of your eyes
That I cannot understand."

And he listens to this with a silent grief,
He tears himself away, bleeding,
Presses her ardently in his arms,
Leaps onto his horse,
And sends for all his troops
In the land of Switzerland;
They go off on pilgrimage to the Holy Sepulchre
With a cross on their breasts.

Great deeds are performed there
Using the strong arms of heroes,
The plumes on their helmets blow
Amongst the swarm of enemies,
And the name of Toggenburg
Terrifies the Muslims;
But his heart still feels its grief
And cannot be healed.

And having borne this for a year,
He cannot bear it any longer,
He cannot attain any inner peace
And he leaves the army,
He sees a ship off the coast at Jaffa
With its sails billowing,
He takes the ship home to the dear land
Where her breath blows.

And when he comes the the door of her castle
The pilgrim knocks on it,
Oh! and with thunderous words
The door is opened:
"The woman you are looking for is now wearing the veil,
She is the bride of heaven;
Yesterday was the day when we celebrated
Her giving herself to God."

And so he leaves for ever
The castle of his forefathers,
He never again sees his weapons
Or his faithful horse.
He leaves Toggenburg behind,
Descending without being recognised,
For his noble limbs are now covered
With a hairshirt.

And he builds himself a hut
Close to that area,
Where he could see the cloister from the middle
Of gloomy lime trees;
Waiting from the first light of day
Until the last glow of evening,
With hope on his face,
He sat there alone.

He looked over at the cloister,
He watched for many an hour
Keeping an eye on his beloved's window,
Until there was a sound at the window,
Until the beloved showed herself,
Until the dear image
Bent down towards the valley,
Peacefully, as gentle as an angel.

And then he lay down happily,
Fell asleep feeling comforted,
Looking forward to the point when once again
It would be morning.
And thus he sat for many days,
He sat for many long years,
Waiting without pain or complaint
Until there was a sound at the window.

Until the beloved showed herself,
Until the dear image
Bent down towards the valley,
Peacefully, as gentle as an angel.
And similarly he was still sitting there, a corpse,
One morning, there he was,
Still looking at the window, his pale,
Quiet face still watching.