The mourning Self, center of all The Conqueror, weeping upon the throne Seeing all, yet blind to the realm of dreams Ruling all, yet deaf to the roars from within A god of war assembling an army A god of order, trembling in fear
The horse master breaches the branches Riding as wisdom unfolds The rune-wielder lurks in the shadows Riding as the giants behold
A warrior's farewell to armors and spears A shaman hangs from the gallows pole Seeing all, close to the edge of reason Ruling all, on wings above chasms of madness An eye for the power and glory An eye for the pain and despair
By the roots far below The Old One spoke At the core of the earth One shall seek Eyes will be blinded And truths will emerge A flight for the thought A flight for the Memory
"Du runer finn teikna og tydde stavar, Mykje store stavar, mykje sterke stavar, Som fimbul-tul farga og høge makter maksla Og Ragna-ropt skar"
'Veit du å riste dei? Veit du å råde dei? Veit du å farge dei? Veit du å freiste dei? Veit du til bøn dei? Veit du til blöt deit? Veit du å sende dei? Veit du å slakte dei?'
English Translation:
"You find runes drawn and the meaning of staves Very mighty staves, very strong staves, Which the Fimbul-tul colored and high powers shaped And Ragna-ropt carved"
'Do you know how to carve them? Do you know how to council them? Do you know how to tint them? Do you know how to test them? Do you know how to summon them? Do you know how to surrender them? Do you know how to send them? Do you know how to stop them?'Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
