Bearing God within,
I step back into the cold
Only for the battle to begin.

The sight of me makes them bold
With spheres, not spears, they assail
Hitting me here, and then there; I do not fold.

Against these boys I shall prevail
I return, throwing and chasing with a man’s power
Even grabbing one; but with jest I am met, not a wail.

How much fun we had in that hour!
Though ritters fell not in our fray of frost
This new Rudau left me in victory dour.

I smile now to think of those balls tossed
Indeed, in the end no one lost.