The Fire-Rider

Do you see at the window

there again, that red cap?

Something must be the matter

for it is going up and down.

And what a sudden mob

is now by the bridge near the field!

Hark! the fire-bell is shrilling:

beyond the hill,

there's a fire in the mill!

Look, there he goes, galloping furiously

through the gate - it's the fire-rider

on his horse, a bony nag

like a fire-ladder!

Across the fields, through the smoke and heat

he plunges, and he's already reached his goal!

Over there the bells are pealing,

beyond the hill,

there's a fire in the mill!

You who so often smelled fire

from a mile off,

and with a fragment of the holy cross

maliciously conjured the blaze -

woe! from the rafters there grins

the Enemy of Man in hellish light.

May God have mercy on your soul!

Beyond the hill,

beyond the hill,

he is raging in the mill!

Not an hour had passed

before the mill was reduced to rubble;

but the bold rider

from that hour was never seen again.

People and wagons in crowds

turn toward home away from all the horror;

and the bell stops ringing:

beyond the hill,

it's burning!

Later a miller found

a skeleton together with the cap

upright against the wall of the cellar

sitting on the mare of bone:

Fire-rider, how coolly

you ride now to your grave!

Hush! there it falls to ashes.

Rest well,

rest well,

down there in the mill!