A new song we raise up, the forest god, our lord.
To sing what God has done, to his praise and honor.
To press in the low lot, probably through twigs, young boys.
He has made his miracle known to me.
That he is so richly praised with his glory.
He is called St. John, so richly praised by God.
His brother Heinrich, according to the spirit, a righteous Christian,
was separated from this world.
They were all crowned, just like the children of God.
They died for his word.
Two great fires ignited the boys they needed.
It was obvious to everyone that they were in such pain.
With joy they gave themselves to him.
With God's glory and blessing, the mother still so small.
For these new things, there were nothing so remarkable.