Standing in a forest of shutters
Feeling a whiff of cold striking
Death is expected tonight
Death over myself
Here in Mørkveden's interior hall
Do I torture myself in hatred
Press the sword deeper
Deeper and deeper until it consumes my mind
The night raven's ride will begin
When the night that will pay homage
Hovering over me like a sign
On death, darkness and Helheim
Where a hundred men travel
And their souls and blood harden
The night raven's flight will come
When the day is over
Hill my death - in the forest's bosom
My screams sounded - the night raven came
Walking now like a must rket's slave - forgotten and lost
My flesh freezes to ice while my soul wanders
Where you can feel the breeze of death and are among Hel's dark slaves
The forest lies there forgotten
Black, dark and forgotten
No human being found here
Here where darkness and cold bind
The fog closes the forest inside
So no one will find it
Only those who yearn for death
And down to Hel will be lowered
Over the forest south of Midgard, over the inner hall of the Darkwood
Hovers there a raven of the night, which hungers for more murder
[English translation:]
[The raid of the nightraven]
Standing in a misty forest
Feeling a vapor of coldness
Death is awaited this night
The death of myself
Here in the hall of Mørkveden
I torture myself in hate
Pushing the sword deeper into myself
Deeper and deeper until it devours my mind
The raid of the nightraven will commence
When the night it shall praise
It floats above me as a sign
Of death, darkness and Helheim
There where a hundred men live
And their souls and blood harden
The raid of the nightraven will come
When the day has come to an end
Hail my death - in the embracement of the forest
My screams sounded - come raven of the night
I am now wandering as a slave of darkness - forgotten
And lost
My flesh is freezing to ice, as my soul is wandering
There you can feel the breeze of death, and is amongst
The slaves of dark Hel
There the forest lies hidden
Black, obscure and forgotten
No man is found
Where cold and darkness is bound
The forest is enshrouded by fog
So that no one can find it
Only those that long for death
And to Hel will descend
Above the wood south of Midgard
Above Mørkvedens inner hall
A nightraven is flying
Still with a lust for death

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