In this land of woods, where the trees stretch far down to the waves in the coldest of nights, in our darkest dreams, the One-Eye stares our souls cast down, like fallen stars, lost like rain in the endless sea we search for meaning long forgotten, its memory, a shadow on our hearts
When our heathen home, turns away from our father's wisdom when our daughter's eyes, no longer shine like the deep blue skies when our sons cower, before the dark southern shadow when our mothers drown their young, lest they become as gods
The northern sun set long ago, the throne has turned to dust the horn has long since called her song, the battle long since lost
The golden hall no longer shines, the ravens fly no more the worm poisoned the sky above, the wolf swallowed the sun
Markland... our dream across the waves The hammer... it fades the gods they sail away the hammer... it fades... no...
The inhabitants of Greenland of their own free will abandoned the true faith and Christian religion, having already forsaken all good ways and virtues, and joined themselves with the folk of America. - Bishop Gisli Oddsson of Skailholt (1593-1638)Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
