"Me did my master Dietrich / hither to you command:
If now the noble margrave / hath fallen 'neath the hand
Of any knight among you, / as word to us is borne,
Such a mighty sorrow / might we never cease to mourn."
Then spake of Tronje Hagen: / "True is the tale ye hear.
Though glad I were, if to you / had lied the messenger,
And if the faithful Ruediger / still his life might keep,
For whom both man and woman / must ever now in sorrow weep!"
When they for sooth the passing / of the hero knew,
Those gallant knights bemoaned him / like faithful friends and true;
On Dietrich's lusty warriors / saw ye fall the tear
Adown the bearded visage, / for sad of heart in truth they were.
Of Bern then a chieftain, / Siegstab, further cried:
"Of all the mickle comfort / now an end is made,
That Ruediger erst prepared us / after our days of pain.
The joy of exiled people / here lieth by you warriors slain."
Then spake of Amelungen / the thane Wolfwein:
"If that this day beheld I / dead e'en sire of mine,
No more might be my sorrow / than for this hero's life.
Alack! who bringeth comfort / now to the noble margrave's wife?"