I have not raised a sword against foes
How it feels to kill I shall never know
And I shall not die in a glorious fight
So to sing of such honors is not in my right.

These rusted words hang
Like a blade on my wall
Spoken and dreamt of
But ne’er used at all
Till blood of the hated dyes my hands red
I Will Not Sing of the men I left dead.

I never have journeyed on a longship o’er the waves
Nor seen what awaits me beyond the grave
I can’t claim to feast in the hall of the slain
So I will not sing of such folly again.

It seems in this life
The paths that I tread
Will be stranger than those
I’ll walk when I’m dead
Until I fall silent and my spirit has gone
I shan’t mock the next life with ignorant song

I’ve tasted the fruit of the grain and the vine
I’ve spoken to spirits, their knowledge is mine
But to sing of these encounters is as far as I’ll go
I will never sing of what I do not know.

I know how to wander
I recall how to sing
But I’ll never claim
To know everything
So lest my strings break under weight of the lies
I will not sing false, nor let pride cloud my eyes.

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