Risen from the ground, walking shakily,
his voice cracked, the spirit hurt and my courage crippled.
I walk up to the cairn, look over the edge
the wall is crumbled, my town in ruins; all my fields burned.
Oden!
Heimdall!
The Halls of the Heavens!
Baldur!
Forseti!
All of the Æsir!
Pour your pity over me, give me inspiration
of battle and a mind of vengeance, now it is clear to me
the work that needs doing, that is mine to do,
the field is littered with dead, the black sky covered with heavy clouds.
Calm my hands, strengthen a weary leg,
support me brothers, fetch axes, swords and spears.
A corpse lying at my feet, every part of it violated,
now we gather the bodies and put them in a grave mound.
The mind is strong, the thirst for revenge is dire,
atonement is kept on the moors by Jökulsár.
Risen up on a defining moment,
destiny makes a hero.
At last my strides grow lighter,
my mood lightens and my courage is empowered.
He defies them thus,
a fiend from Helheim.
He holds on to a glimmer of hope,
the warrior Óðinsson.
He rises up and behold! - I am clad with might!
Gná rides away - This fearsome power!
A berserker rises - I am Baldur born!
Pales the lady of fortune - I shall never return!
Ride towards danger, ride over the heath.
Ride against the supernatural, lay waste to every cottage.
Risen up is Baldur Óðinsson!
Avenge the fallen, we are seduced by danger.
Trail the path from home, we won't go on a trot.
Risen up is Baldur Óðinsson!