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Him the wolf shall eat,
The hoar traverser of the heath,
His mother then shall on his death,
Bemourn the life without control,

One shall hunger destroy,
and the cruel drive away,
One shall the spear lay prostate,
Where war doth crush a soul

One shall void of light,
And pass this life,
With his hands grope;
With his breath fight,

Sick with sinew-wounds,
His pain, bewails,
In mind afflicted,
One shall in the forest, from a high tree,
Wingless fall, Hover in air!

One shall void of light,
And pass this life,
With his hands grope,
With his breath fight,

To Earth he shall no longer be
The wild tree's fruit,
When he to the root
Shall sink with life exhausted,
Of soul bereft,
Shall fall on the earth,
His soul be on his journey.

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