Celebration of our breed will fill this hall of might Friends and kin from all around converge upon this night The chieftain stands and we raise our tankards high In honor of our brothers, let's drink to hours absurd, 'Cause the mead of Valhall awaits true warriors of this world!
"Raise your pints to the hordes of Valhalla!"
From belly of the Heidrún to the belly of the men. Adorned in golden spirits where the mightiest are sent. The hall of great heroes, so glorious to see. But the greatest of all pleasures: perfect tasting mead!
Sounds of merriment are roaring like a fire The old man beside me is grinning ear to ear Because busty maids approach us, bearing full pitchers of beer He puts his arm around me and we laugh hearty and loud Mugs collide in revelry. Oh, what a glorious time. The joy of celebration bonds the union of our kind!
"Raise your pints to the hordes of Valhalla!"
From belly of the Heidrún to the belly of the men. Adorned by golden spirits where the mightiest are sent. The hall of great heroes, so glorious to see. But the greatest of all pleasures: perfect tasting mead!
Splashing 'round our feet are the pools of mead and beer. Soaking in the spirit of the mood we laugh and cheer. Tonight, like mighty Odin, we gain nourishment from wine. In the midst of ale and women there's no consciousness of time.
Hail this night!
With pride of many centuries, our sounding voices roar. The wind and snow are whipping with the cold outside the door. Drinking 'till there is no more, the purest of our breed. Midgårdian revelry!
Hail!
Tonight we left our worries at the door. Our bellies full of food and drink, we're warm with pagan pride. Many songs and many hails for brothers that have died. Fellowship from clan to clan without a single fight. In envy of our brothers, we drank to hours absurd, 'Cause the mead of Valhall awaits true warriors of this world!
Among the many fast asleep, the old man's on the floor. We thought his night was over but he's raised his cup for more. We laugh and shout in victory, a testament of might. Clans had come from all around to share in song and mead. Not a single drop remains, all our cups are clean. 'Twas the greatest gathering this hall has ever seen!
Hail this night!
With pride of many centuries our sounding voices roar. The wind and snow are whipping with the cold outside the door. Drinking 'till there is no more, the purest of our breed. Midgårdian revelry!Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
