His soul from his limbs sword-sundered, amidst the blood sank down.
So avenged were Rüdiger’s death-wounds by those warriors of renown!
There fought the war-duke Siegstab by the wind of his wrath swept on.
Ha, what strong-welded helmets by Dietrich’s sister’s son,
As he burst through the reeling war-ranks, were cleft on the heads of foes!
Never in battle-tempest did man deal knightlier blows.
Then drew nigh Volker the stalwart, and an evil sight he beheld,
Saw from cleft rings of hauberks how blood in torrents welled
’Neath the smiting of valiant Siegstab, and the hero’s wrath rose high,
And he leapt upon that slayer—and ended suddenly