Hear, heavenly builder,
whose poet waits.
Come softly to me
the mercy of the river.
What is my name,
I created me.
I am the river,
You are my lord.
God, I swear to you,
that you will heal me.
Reminiscent of it, milding, man,
most of all.
Ryð þú, röla gram,
ruly and forward,
keep every sorrow
out of the city of heart.
Could it, gentleness, my,
most of all,
helzt every moment
to hold ground.
Sent to you, dear virgins,
the issues are few,
all is help from you,
in my heart.< br/>