1 That little spring of water which is running downward from the hill I turn to healing balm for thee that thou mayst be good medicine.

2 Hither and onward! Well! Come on! Among thy hundred remedies most excellent of all art thou, curing disease and morbid flow.

3 The earth holds deep this mighty thing that healeth wounds. This is the cure for morbid flow, this driveth malady away.

4 The emmets from the water-flood produce this healing medicine: this is the cure for morbid flow, this driveth malady away.

5 Mighty is this wound-healing balm: from out the earth was it produced. This is the cure for morbid flow, this driveth malady away.

6 Bless us the Waters! be the Plants auspicious! May God's thunderbolt drive off the demons. Far from us fall the shafts they shoot against us!