The swallows are flying

The swallows are flying,

Spring has prevailed,

And is giving us flowers for our wreaths.

Soon we will flit

Softly out of the door

And fly to the glorious dance!

A black goat,

A broomstick,

The oven fork, the distaff,

Snap us along swiftly

Like lightning and wind,

Through roaring winds to Brocken.

Around Beelzebub

Our coven dances

And kisses him on his clawed hands.

A bevy of ghosts

Seizes us by the arm

Swinging torches in the dance.

And Beelzebub

Promises the coven

of dancers gifts upon gifts:

They will be beautiful

Walking in silk,

And they will dig up pots full of gold.

A fire-breathing dragon flies

Around the roof

And brings us butter and eggs.

The neighbours see

Sparks blowing

And they cross themselves against the fire.

The swallows are flying,

Spring has prevailed,

And flowers rival each other in blooming.

Soon we will flit

Softly out of the door;

And leave the men in bed!