Текст и перевод песни Estampie - Bluomenrot

Bluomenrot

Nû lebe ich mir alrêrst werde,
Sît mîn sündic ouge sihet
Daz hêre lant und ouch die erde,
Der man vil der êren gihet.
Nû ist geschehen, des ich ie bat:
Ich bin komen an die stat,
Dâ got mennischlîchen trat.

Schœniu lant rîch unde hêre,
Swaz ich der noch hân gesehen,
Sô bist dûz ir aller êre.
Waz ist wunders hie geschehen!
Daz ein maget ein kint gebar,
Hêre über aller engel schar,
Was daz niht ein wunder gar?

Hie liez er sich reine toufen,
Daz der mensche reine sî.
Dô liez er sich hie verkoufen,
Daz wir eigen wurden frî.
Anders wæren wir verlorn.
Wol dir, sper, kriuze unde dorn!
Wê dir, heiden, daz ist dir zorn!

Hinnen fuor der sun zer helle
Von dem grabe, dâ er inne lac.
Des was ie der vater geselle,
Und der geist, den nieman mac
Sunder scheiden: êst al ein,
Sleht und ebener danne ein zein,
Als er Abrahâme erschein.

In diz lant hât er gesprochen
Einen angeslîchen tac,
Dâ diu witwe wirt gerochen
Und der weise klagen mac
Und der arme den gewalt,
Der dâ wirt an ime gestalt.
Wol ime dort, der hie vergalt!

Flowering Red

Now I can truly live,
Since my sinful eyes have seen
The blessed land and the earth
Of which so many glories are told.
Now it has happened, for which I always prayed:
I have arrived at the place
Where God trod as a man.

Beautiful, rich, and blessed lands,
Of all I have seen,
You are the greatest of all.
What wonders have happened here!
That a virgin gave birth to a child,
Lord over all the hosts of angels,
Was that not a great miracle?

Here he allowed himself to be baptized,
So that mankind might be pure.
Then he allowed himself to be sold,
That we might become free.
Otherwise we would have been lost.
Blessed are you, spear, cross, and thorns!
Woe to you, heathen, for whom this is wrath!

From here the son went to hell
From the grave where he lay.
The father was always his companion,
And the spirit, whom no one can
Separate: they are one,
Smoother and flatter than a bowstring,
As he appeared to Abraham.

In this land, he has promised
A day of judgment,
When the widow will be avenged
And the orphan can lament
And the poor the violence
That is done to them.
Blessed is he who pays his dues here!