Resound, you strings,
In the calm of the night,
And from afar lead
Dreams towards me!
I can already hear them calling
In the swelling sounds;
They are filling the halls
With songs of love
And they are lulling and lifting
My sinking courage
Through stormy apprehension
On the resounding flood.

They never rang out 
For princes and gold,
They have now been captured
In exchange for a bitter payment
And with joy they give -
For bitter reward
And rich suffering - 
That which is most valuable.
Though the songs also encounter
Plenty of dark looks,
They always turn
Back to their mistress.

Oh if only I could sing successfully
And reach the golden target!
Oh, if only I could be victorious
In the tumult of battle!
In vain do they meet -
Lyre and sword;
She does not value those who are bold,
She does not value those who are gentle.
And although I would happily
Sacrifice my life for love,
It would always remain faint for me
That friendly star.

Nothing ventured nothing gained!
Many people have written this on their swords;
I have ventured and come to nothing,
That is how I have been treated.
Yet I shall let it fly,
That noble standard,
And even if it falls,
It will fall with me!
For he is not worthy of the prize,
That man is never worthy
Who flees from the conflict
To save his life.

Even if it catches fire and quickly and
Is consumed, this heart of mine,
And even if it sheds all its blood
In lingering agony;
I shall nourish the wound,
I love my suffering
And I shall leave the news
For the time to come:
She who always
Troubled his heart,
She it is who this faithful servant
Loved even as he died.