The sky is getting darker up across the river
And the day is approaching its end
The bridge over the channel is lifted
And the guards mounted at the gates
The procession of monks
Is flowing out of the nearby church.
The people are getting out of their houses
To listen to the quiet chants
The witch! Confess in the liaisons with the Satan
The holy fire will cleanse thy soul!
The scaffold is knocked of dry boards
And the cross is put up with chains hanging down
Brushwood from the neighboring forests
Forms a huge heap.
The human drove gives way to the rattling cart
With a woman inside the iron cage
The bishop is seating on the brocade throne
And sweating under his tight robe.
The witch! Confess in the liaisons with the Satan
The holy fire will cleanse thy soul!
Hey hangman! Set fire to the brushwood!
Burn down this bitch!
The fire tossed up quickly
Tearing off the witches clothes
The body was twitching like a drunken clown
And the yells were amusing the crowd
The skin was bursting and the fat was emittingblack smoke,
It was rising higher and higher
The thunderstorm began
And heavy rain stroke on the roofs.
The witch! Confess in the liaisons with the Satan
The holy fire will cleanse thy soul!