The north gave the dark a language,
crystal clear as a winter night
Hounding pack, distant laughter
A way into the thicket, they don't follow that one
Black Frost - I become winter
Black Frost - Of me nothing but contrast remains
Black Frost - I become shadow face
No coldness moves me
Whipping branches, bleeding signs
I ask the pale Todin1 for me
until the white shroud2 covers me
The snow storm - me it doesn't kill...
I write Kvasir's3 blood in black (letters),
filled with fury I play4 the harp in the snake pit,
throw everything that's night within me
I cut the laughter...
The pack gets entangled in the thicket
when the winter clasts their icons5
The north gave the dark its language,
colder, faster and stronger...
1. the article and the suffix -in imply that it's a female person; it could be a female personification of death ("Tod")2. the kind of shroud that gets laid onto corpses3. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kvasir4. lit. "beat"5. derived from the expression "iconoclast", "Bilderstürmer"