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Armed armies march towards the battle |
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The warriors of Wotan, not knowing good grace, |
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Pain nor mercy for enemies |
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The enemies of Wotan are their enemies as well |
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Small villages surrounded by forest stand a flamed |
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Screaming and crying is all that is heard |
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The oppressive smoke climbs to high peeks |
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And it covers the bodies of the murdered |
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In response to the barbaric attack |
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They fought bravely, but they were defeated |
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They couldn't defeat the Hatred |
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That came from the Northern woods |
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Much blood was split and many hearts were pierced |
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The fire absorbed and obliterated the traces of the crimes |
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And the wind scattered the ashes |
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The warriors of Wotan left as fast as they came |
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No one knows were they came for |
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And to were they headed off to |
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The only things that remained were the bodies of the dead |
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And the burnings upon the ground |
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Now nobody know if they fought another battle |
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Or if they engulfed into a dark forest |
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Nobody knows the paths that the Wolves of Wotan walk upon |
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The Gods of war incline to them |
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And Wotan himself gives them his strength |
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No one dares to go after them |
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Nobody dares to go against Wotan's will |
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Spilled Christian blood will never be avenged |
