Come in, noble warrior

Come in, noble warrior,

who has given me his heart!

Take off your purple mantle

and your golden spurs!

Let your horse now pull the plow

as a salute to my father!

Your saddle-cloth with its coat of arms -

give it to me as a rug for my feet!

Your sword hilt must give up

to me its gold and stones,

and its gleaming blade

shall become a poker iron.

And the snow-white feather

on your blood-red hat

is now to be a cooling fan,

good for the summer-time.

And the Marshal must learn

how one bakes wheat bread,

how one chops up sausage and stuffing

at Christmas-time!

Now commend your soul

to Holy Christ!

Your body is sold;

there is no more redeeming it.