When you’re going to hunt, you’re to feel the ground, fellow.
For there is a big bear for each one glassy-eyed in the woods.
The hunters:
Hey, we live so wealthy, we’re going to travel far
To beat and to cripple a bear with a spear.
And after that this evening we will make a feast on a skirt of the woods,
Just hold us, Mother-Earth, when the ale fills our tankards!
The brown bear’s afraid of us for he doesn’t dare to come up,
Then we’ll beat the hares and the game so that our campaign is not for nothing.
And after that this evening we will make a feast on a skirt,
Just hold us, Father-Forest, when the ale fills our tankards!

But the owner of the woods growled – “I’m afraid of nobody!
And I’m not going to wait until my dying hour,
But I marvel all the time, waking up on a dawn,
As I get hungry the meat comes itself with the songs to me!”