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While the barley of Huginn |
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Lies unburied still; |
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Their bones picked clean by ravens |
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The liberator of Germania was betrayed |
|
|
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Wuotan gives and Wuotan takes! |
|
|
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A fate worse than death was her share |
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Thusnelda, a trophy for Germanicus |
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So Thumelicus was born |
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A slave of noble blood ... |
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|
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Wuotan gives and Wuotan takes! |
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|
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Able to meet his end |
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with the fire of Wuotan |
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clenched firmly in his hand; |
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the final path to Valhalla |
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There is no place for personal fame |
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There is only the thread spun by the maidens |
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Who dwell by the well of Urd |
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Steering your fate, towards glory or disgrace... |
