Near Gnadental happened one story,
It started good and didn't end so.
That Hester Jonas was a Peter Meurer's wife,
She had rough hands and a young body.
The days were work, the nights were calm,
And Hester had dreams and was dreaming more and more.
And in the mornings on Erft, when she was washing the laundry,
She was telling the women what her dreams were about.
There was a flow of wine,
The trees fruited bread,
In Hamfeld blossomed the cherries
That were in Winter red,
No carter drove a cart,
No clothes needed money,
No one was to starve,
No way went too far.
The women were listening to her with the laughing faces
Hester's dreams were nice and meant no harm.
And on Wednesdays in the market, where the traders were shouting
It happened that more people gathered around Jonas:
The cities will fall
Where just a few are rich
The poor people rise
For wealth without sins
And don't give to the prince,
Not to the bishop and not to the tsar,
And nothing in the morning
Will be as it was in the evening.
Often the men crooked mouth in front of her
The better ones were saying: Hester, you ruin yourself.
However, at nights, walking on the cool grass, they were coming hungry
For Hester's dreams and were asking: Today again!
There early came two men from the town
And dragged Hester Jonas to the authorities.
There was a speech about God, there was a speech about her
There was a speech of dreams that speak ill of people and animals.
And they squeezed her neck and broke her bones
The whole town had days full of Hester Jonas' screams.
And she signed the confession with her broken arm
And cried more dreams until fire took her.
The cities will fall
Where just a few are rich
The poor people rise
For wealth without sins
And don't give to the prince,
Not to the bishop and not to the tsar,
And nothing in the morning
Will be as it was in the evening.