Ramund would be a better man,
if the clothes he wore were better
The Queen gifted him clothes at once
made of tow, bast and leather
“This is not what I want,” said Ramund
“This is not what I like,” said Ramund the Young
Ramund walked by the salty sea,
he saw seven giants standing there
“I’ll take Ramund with my smallest hand,
and throw him far out in the sea.”
“You alone won’t manage that,” said Ramund
“All seven of you must fight,” said Ramund the Young
Ramund drew his dear sword,
the one he called The Red Dowel.
Hit all seven giants in a single slash,
so they all bled to death
“Here lies all seven,” said Ramund
“And yet here I still stand,” said Ramund the Young
The Emeperor out of his window looked
with anxiety and sorrow on his face
“Who is that man standing in the yard,
who laughs so horribly?”
“It’s me and I want,” said Ramund
“To fight a duel with you,” said Ramund the Young
Ramund drew his big knife,
the one he called The Dear Dowel.
He split the Emperor at his mid,
the head flew fifteen miles.
“I thought the edge was blunt,” said Ramund.
“And yet the blood flows free,” said Ramund the Young.