To all the people,
Never heard about the place that we call home
To all the ignorant,
Never saw the chain of mountains we are from

To all the vagrants,
Never wandered through the secret paths
To my auditory,
Never felt the spirit of the cold wind,
That tells his tales and nothing less

Into the deep the fog is creeping,
To where the trees stood once before
The brook is forcing it's way down,
Obliged the slope and nothing more

It saves it's inhabitants by the wooden wall, which
Will never fall This is the land Taunusheim
Believe me there,
In former times the kings were proud to be

Where warriors knew for what they had been fighting
For the most beautiful maiden and the highest tree
When at night Manis brightness is the only lightning
Taunus the land of the wooden mode á

Taunus the home of the deer
Taunus the ravens eyrie á
Taunusheim is what we feel
There was and is and will ever be the trust in ancient gods

The trust in honour,
Strength and wisdom
The trust in ourselfs
Where the essence arises of what you're listening

Through the darkest path of wooden labyrinths
The oldest ghosts still wander,
Terrifying all the living,
That dare stay alone at night

If you think about ancient tales and their antecedents,
Then you should stop and recognize,
That they still rest in nebular
Into the deep the fog is creeping to where the trees stood once before

The brook is forcing it's way down,
Obliged the slope and nothing more
It saves it's inhabitants by the wooden wall,
Wich will never fall

Taunus the land of the wooden
Mode á Taunus the home of the deer
Taunus the ravens eyrie á
Taunusheim is what we feel