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!