The sun's first light already glowed;
Upon the Daugava's banks it lay.
The sky was clear and plainly showed
Fair weather for the coming day.
But yet one cloud now took its course,
That higher climbed above the land;
And at its front, upon a horse,
An old man rode, with whip in hand.
He let run loose the prancing grey,
To Staburags's cliff it dashed;
His whip he cracked and straight away
Great bolts of lightning brightly flashed.
Vast thunderclaps in deep tones rumbled,
And Staburags shook to its core,
Along the cliff the boulders crumbled:-
Bearslayer stood, alive once more!
He found it hard, clear to recall,
And real the memories did not seem.
One thing he knew, despite the pall:
It had not happened in a dream.
Two lessons in his mind were there
That left in him a knowledge sure:
The trap of evil woman's snare,
And noble woman's virtue pure.
Henceforth he swore his back to turn
Against the first and passion's chains,
The second's deep respect to earn,
Through noble tasks and endless pains.
Bearslayer performs another mighty feat
Now climbing down, where through the banks
The Perse flows, a crowd he spied,
A group of people from whose ranks
A boat was lowered in the tide.
They wished to cross, but none was fit
With strength enough to pull the oar.
If room there were for him to sit,
Alone to row Bearslayer swore.-