Who shall sing of me?
Or carry me to eternal sleep
When I head down Hel's long roads
And the paths that I tread
are cold, oh
so cold
I sought out the songs
I sent out the songs
Whilst the deepest of wells
brought me the harshest of tears
from the Slain-father's pledge
I know all, Odin,
Like where you hid your eye
Who shall sing of me?
Or carry me to eternal sleep
When I head down Hel's long roads
and the paths I tread
are cold, oh
so cold
Early or at evening's call
Still the raven knows if I fall
When you stand by the gates to Hel
and you must tear yourself free
I shall follow you
over the Gjallabrú with my song
You are freed from the bonds that bind you
You are free from the bonds that bound you
Cattle die,
Friends die,
So, too, must you die.
Though one thing
Never dies;
The fair fame one has earned.
Cattle die,
Friends die,
So, too, must you die.
I know one,
That never dies;
Judgement of a dead man's life.