Created by blood and bone, we were maggots who fed on the world. We create the impossible, we dwell beneath rock and soil and yet we hold the world.From the world of twilight they came, strange and foreign, with a tongue unknown on their lips.They were here before the others, they created before the others, they ruled before the others, they disappeared before the others.A horse with three legs, nine feet high and with the world around it.We were first, we fought them when they came, we resisted and we killed and died, we soaked the ground red with our blood and that of our foes and yet today we kneel.The gods themselves came to take our green homeland. We fought against them in a glorious battle, fighting for our lives and homes against gods. Defeat was inevitable yet a champion rose among us to strike the god that stood against him with strength so fierce that he cut the god's arm off in a single blow.A land of men born of three peoples, thrice conquered, we once ruled the world yet now sit idle, old and fragile.Blooded in a hundred battles, a king of a fertile and beautiful land, of people fearless, free spirited and fierce, now lay almost forgotten.It was here before us all, cold, dark, with brutal, merciless cold on both ends, here before god and man, before the world was created. From primordial cold we came, to a final cold we are headed.
These liars will burn.Down the hill he goes, life pouring from him.The wind blows savagely. None will wake up.Snow covers the world. Óðinn lies dead.
Vits er þörfþeims viða ratardælt er heima hvatat augabragði verðr sá er ekki kannok með snotrum sitrAt hyggjandi sinniskylit maðr hrœsinn veraheldr gætinn at geðiþá er horskr ok þögullkømr heimisgarða tilsjaldan verðr viti vörumþví at óbrigðra vinfær maðr aldregien manvit mikit
Felagi! Post glorious norse music!Praise Tyr!
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