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 Du runer finn teikna og tydde stavar, Mykje store stavar, mykje sterke stavar, Som fimbul-tul farga og høge makter maksla Og Ragna-Ropt skar Veit du å riste dei? Veit du å råde dei? Veit du å farge dei? Veit duå freiste dei? Veit du til bøn dei? Veit du til blót dei? Veit du å sende dei? Veit du å slakte dei?