Fjärran

And high above the dinning stound
of dwarfs and men, and elven sound.

Hearing Demons, came from afar,
Smelling the banquet-feast of war.
Came in black flocks to norsemen plains,
to drink the blood-wine from their veins.

There by the wide and windy shore
the waves are stained in blood-red gore.
Songs from beyond, the skalds play
a song to their sun-god Frey.

And far away from the shore
hark on the ocean's angry roar
see how the very stones are tost
by raging waves on the coast.
And your ship, with glancing sides
Must sail to the ocean's tides
must sail to unknown shores
and the war sounds are heard no more.