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As sure as the wagtails nest in the autumn pear trees,
Cuckoos plan their return across the Mediterranean sea.
And when they arrive, for all who survived,
Poets will sing songs of our names, reputation, and our fame.
Led down the Thames by the new light of day,
The threads of my fate lead me to Ludd's gate.
If we survive London's broken bridge, we still face the brothers Thurgilson.
As the shield walls clash, the battle for London might be my last.
Instead of the war calm on my mind, it's on who I have left behind.
When the Norns decide, it's my time to die,
With sword in my hand, may his Valkyries carry me.
If this is my final ride, tell my son of how I died;
To carry on my legacy, bring pride to our family
Avenge my death!
These battles that I wage, and souls that I claim,
Are all for a kingdom not my own.
Haunted by those who have fallen by my sword,
Until we meet again in the feasting hall of the dead.
When my sword song sings for the last time
And ravens call for me, (my) hammer amulet tells of my future company.
But for my son that carries on, inspiring your own poet's song,
Carve out your own path through life, follow none and lead with might.
For my son that carries on, inspire your own poet's song,
Carve out your own path through life, follow none and lead with might.
Create your own legacy, bring pride to your family.
The threads of your fate will lead you to Valhalla's gate.

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