The witch has four wings, and a long dress, oh, reaching to the floor
Owls, falcons and quails have woven nests in her sleeves
Ah, this ne'er-do-well, with foliage in her hair and reddened hands
Asking the demon of unseeing moon that no spring should come after winter
Hey-hey, while you're still alive..
Hey-hey, while the grass burns...
Hey-hey, fire suits you..
Dance, witch, dance!
Where the witch is, no blessings are put on the crops, no hoershoes on horses
Let this tramp fly in ashes, oh, far and away.
The dance of death whilrs with hot wind, it's more ancient than most.
The witch will dance, and she is no match for our faith.
Hey-hey, while you're still alive..
Hey-hey, while the grass burns...
Hey-hey, fire suits you..
Dance, witch, dance!
Get drunk on our anger.
Dance! Today you are a queen.
Let hops and cinnamon, snake and fox
Sing praises to their sister at first dawn -
Hallelujah to the fire maiden!
The witch has four wings, and the air is blurry behind her shoulders.
Today she is to blaze with blue fire, just like she burned with lies.
There is no limit to fire's charity, and the Lord will forgive us.
So that rye grows tall, and spring follows winter again.