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The morning breaks
And shines so dimly through the fog
Silence reigns over the resting warriors
From an ambush, laughing mischievously, through the undergrowth
Iron men armed with fearsome ones Weapons
They storm the Teutonic Brood
A fountain of black blood pours out
Ruin came upon us last night
A huge loss has to be mourned
They came over our people in droves
Took lives and provisions
With our last strength
We were able to beat them back
It is our honor that is injured
It must be reconquered
This people must be put to an end
The battlefield must be soaked
Of the dishonorable blood of the enemy
Crossing swords, idyllic moonlight
The barbarians are setting out, to defend the honor
Roar, not far from the mountains
Wapen!!!
Sounds from the bestial horde
Blood is flowing, the enemies are powerlessly outnumbered
To the Teutonic fighting spirit
We return full of pride
The god of war was our escort
In this battle, which was ours
He sharpened our blades
For them to be better
Sliding through the bitter enemy flesh
They experienced whimpering
Our lust
Our lust to kill
Their mortality expires like their souls
And their dishonorable blood
Will poison the ground