The mourning self, center of all
The conqueror, weeping upon the throne
Seeing all, yet blind to the realm of dreams
Ruling all, yet deaf to the roars from within
A god of war assembling an army
A god of order, trembling in fear
The horse master breaches the branches
Riding as wisdom unfolds
The rune-wielder lurks in the shadows
Riding as the giants behold
The horse master breaches the branches
Riding as wisdom unfolds
The rune-wielder lurks in the shadows
Riding as the giants behold
A warrior's farewell to armors and spears
A shaman hangs from the gallows pole
Seeing all, close to the edge of reason
Ruling all, on wings above chasms of madness
An eye for the power and glory
An eye for the pain and despair
By the roots far below
The old one spoke
At the core of the earth
One shall seek
Eyes will be blinded
And truths will emerge
A flight for the thought
A flight for the memory
You find runes drawn and the meaning of staves
Very mighty staves, very strong staves,
Which the Fimbul-tul colored and high powers shaped
And Ragna-ropt carved
Do you know how to carve them?
Do you know how to council them?
Do you know how to tint them?
Do you know how to test them?
Do you know how to summon them?
Do you know how to surrender them?
Do you know how to send them?
Do you know how to stop them?