Ah, many a valiant champion in battle for her sake fell!
There was no man whose pride had warded his breast against love’s dart
Shot from the eyes victorious, from the snare of many a heart:
She was lovely beyond all measure that speech or thought may find,
Yea, queenly withal and gracious, a glory of womankind.
Three high-born Kings and wealthy guarded and held her dear;
Gunther and Gernot, heroes in prowess without a peer,
And Giselher the youngest, unmatched in foughten field:
Their sister was she and their glory, and her sword were they and her shield.
Lords were they of noble lineage, and of courtesy the crown,