From the northern fringe first the whisper is heard
The angry wind that fimbultracts will whip
In the cold weather
It hardens those who mourn the tormented land
Its barren lament is so sad
Now like a horrifying cry against the heavens rises
Its fierce zeal
An autumnal song of the season that the silence drives
Its power now rises, the weak phases
Before the storm blast that rages in air
Now sorrow is feared
Within the cloud of calamity where death shall be repeated
The gloomy notes that echo there
Sung by fair voices that weep from the wind
The omlit quavers
D, like a wrathful divinity that weaves its web of death. old age
In the vault of the mountain, the elf of the wind
Rich in poverty
Wolves rule all day long
Not even the ravenous wolf in bloodlust hunts
From the rain's furrows
Among the shelters of the rocks there in the rush of blood rests
When northern ancient power breaks forward
In fury where the furious film storm roars
It tries its rope
The strong people who in fearful lands strive
The now whips the mountain's sinewy back
Dr hoarfrost gray ice tongues strangle
The icy force so worthily naughty
Foretells of winter killing pain
[Chorus:]
Lonely land
At the edge of the sky
Dr silent fury weighted down by strings of enchanted sorrow
The gnome of the mountain
Weighed in old age
In the vault of the mountain, the elf of the wind
Rich in poverty