When the wolf moon rises again
A veil is woven around Odin's priests
Word-barren rite song of heathendom when
From the edge of the forest edges of emboldened guests
Against the splendor of the stars mead-filled stops are now raised
The sermon master calls out the sign of the wolf
Father's eye harms pagan baptism
Gä¤ the stabudet we are held in the spring-fresh stream
[English translation:]
Heathenized In The Sign Of The Wolf-Moon
When the wolfmoon stands again
A haze veil is twined around Odin's priests
Laconic rite song reaches unheathenized
From the forest edge's borders from courage strengthened guests
Meadfilled stoups are now risen towards star glory
The ceremony master invokes the wolf's sign
The father's eye sees heathen baptism
The feast is held by the fresh rill
7. Jøkeln
[Music by Vintersorg, Lyric by Karl-Erik Forsslund]
Like an old ice-covered dragon, Jøkeln lies heavy
And white-green shaggy down the slope between two peaks
The tail wrapped around the highest
The tip, the belly tense and stiff
In the cauldron of the mountain, the back crowned by the middle moraine's ash,
Black and knee-length
Down towards the valley he stretches a long, narrow nose with a wrinkled
Skin to lips, white teeth grin there in between,
Through Jökelporten's black high ¥l flows from his
Gap a muddy stream
Prickly comb on his head, dark cloudy greenish-grey eyes -
Stiffly he stares across the valley down,
Pressing nose airs against
Ground between paws whose dark claws
Glimpse out of wet dirty gray rag
Small plant descendant of his giant ancestor, the ice-age dragon,
Father Jökul himself - he who stretched his tail up
Towards the Pole the frames against the block mountains and the Urals,
He who over All and plains turned away,
Crawling and tumbling
He who filled seas and lakes,
Rifs with claws rips in the hard hearts llar
Gnawed the rocks and pressed the
Mountains together with his weight
He who razed and laid waste fairy forests,
Green paradises, blew with icy breath kt away
Everything that was alive, blooming and shining
[English translation:]
The Glacier
The glacier lies heavily like an old ice covered dragon
and white-green shaggy down the precipice between two summits
The tail coiled around the highest peak
The belly stretched and full in the mountain's cauldron
The back crowned by the middle-moraine's ridge
Black and bumpy
Down towards the valley he stretches long narrow nose with wrinkled skin as lips
White teeth grins there between
Through the glacier gate's black hole flows from his mouth
a muddy stream< br/>Spiny ridge on the head, dark turbidly green-grey eyes -
Stiffly he stares over the valley bellow
Presses the nose, scents
towards the ground between the paws whose dark claws< br/>Glimpses out from wet dirt-grey shag.
Small descendant of its giant progenitor, the ice age dragon,
father Jökul himself - he who stretched the tail up towards the pole
The paws towards block mountain and ural,
He who trundled himself over mountains and plains,
Crawling and rolling
He who filled oceans and lakes,
tore with his claws rents in the hard rocks
Gnawed the cliffs and pressed
the mountains together with his weigh
He who ravaged and laid waste to tale forests,
Green paradises, with ice-cold breath blew away
Everything that lived, bloomed and shone

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