Sankt Martin

Saint Martin, Saint Martin,
Saint Martin rode through snow and wind,
his horse carried him swiftly away.
Saint Martin rode with a light heart,
his cloak kept him warm and snug.

In the snow, in the snow,
in the snow, there sat a poor man,
had no clothes, just rags on.
"Oh, help me out in my plight,
else the bitter cold will be my end!"

Saint Martin, Saint Martin,
Saint Martin pulled the reins tight,
his horse stood still by the poor man.
Saint Martin with his sword divides
the warm cloak without delay.

Saint Martin, Saint Martin,
Saint Martin gave half, quietly,
the beggar quickly wants to thank him.
Saint Martin, but rode away in haste
with his piece of cloak.