(From Mrs. Scholze in Kotten)
Translated by Ed Bernthal

There were, there were, two pilgrims,
They came and asked about an inn.

They came and asked about an inn,
They asked where the inn might be.

They found, they found, three inns,
And went into the middle one unafraid.

They went in to the wicked innkeeper,
‘Will you, O innkeeper take us in?’

“I will take you in for one night,
If you really are honest guests.”

‘We will be your honest guests,
We will not give you any trouble.’

And so as it came toward midnight,
The wicked innkeeper got up quietly.

He took his golden bowl,
Which cost him three hundred “shock” alone.

He stuck it into the basket of the younger one,
The basket of the of the younger one.

And in the early morning of the next day,
The pilgrims got ready to go on their travels.

The pilgrim got ready to go on their travels.
And they thanked him for the lodging.

As they had gone a bit further,
The innkeeper came after them and cried:

“Stop! Stop and wait you two pilgrims,
You took by golden bowl.”

“You took my golden bowl,
That cost me three hundred “shock.”

The older one said to the younger one: ‘My Son,
Did you take the golden bowl?’

“Didn’t you take it, my father?
I did not take the golden bowl.”

The wicked innkeeper reached into,
Into the basket of the younger one.

He pulled out the golden bowl,
That had cost him three hundred “shock.”

Then they hurried to the judge,
To the judge who had an honest mind.

He condemned the pilgrim to be hanged,
They hanged the younger pilgrim.

But the older one said to the younger one
‘My son, hang there for a year and a day.’

And when a year and a day had passed
The older pilgrim came to the younger one.

‘You are still alive, my son!
Who stood you on the foot bench?’

“Saint Mary had put it there under me,
And the saints brought me food.”

The older one went to the innkeeper:
‘My son is still alive for me.’

“That I will not believe, not ever.
Three dry staffs I have in my house:”

“If the three will produce sprouts,
Then I will believe it is true.”

And the three staffs produced sprouts,
But the wicked innkeeper still did not believe.

“In the oven three chickens are cooking,
If the three chickens will get feathers,”

“And take their flight out of the window
Then I first will believe that it is true.”

They took their flight out of the window,
And the wicked innkeeper had to believe.

They now hurried back to the judge,
To the judge who had an honest mind.

He condemned the innkeeper to be hanged,
They hanged the wicked innkeeper.

The wicked innkeeper hung in shame and disgrace,
And in a quarter hour he was dead.




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