[At the roots of the nine known worlds, where the shadow of the Tree becomes one with the Abyss, Grimnir stands ready. The roar of the underground rivers is defeaning but the Masked One cares not. Never before did he speak in vain and nor shall he now. For his is the knowledge of the words of power and it is in him to know how mightily, how high they should be sung. She sleeps in the mist, in the eternal veil of those whom the earthly element had claimed. She is gone and yet there she lies.
The truth is Grimnir needs her, as the crows needs the carrion, as a woman needs a man's seed, so does the Hanged One need his sejdkona. Thus he sings for her. And when the echo of his galdr dies out, the burial mounds are all light and carcass and spirit become one. She is here, she is now with us. Thus, she opens her dead eyes and begins her own song of vision and delusion.]
[Óðinn:] Völva! Rístu upp gamla, vitra kona. Opnaðu dauð, hvít augun. Horfðu í hyldýpið. Til ókomna daga. Völva! Hvað sérðu? Hvernig endar þetta?
[Völva:] Garm nu gräsligt skäller framför Gnipahålan; fjättern skall brista, och fri blir ulven. Då skälver Yggdrasil, urträdet jämrar sig.
Bröder banemän bliva, systrars barn sitt släktskap spilla; vindålder, vargålder, hårt är i världen, yxtid, klingtid, innan världen störtas; Naglfar lossnar.
Solen svartnar, jord sänkes i hav, flammande stjärnor från fästet falla upp ångar imma, och elden lågar.
Men gammal är hon, trött är hon, nu skall hon åter sjunka.Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
