The Pagan Wanderings

Once upon a time there was an age where there was nothing -
neither sand, nor sea, nor salty waves.
No grass was on the earth, only an abyss under a grey sky.

And then glowing streams like fertilized flames blazed from the sun,
and the era of the hall, and of the Gods had begun to quake.

Lead age, sword age. Shields grappled, spear spires clashed
and swords were struck against heads.
Wind age, wolfs age. Bring the sword
in the hero's hand before the world fall.

Everyone take a sword, for the sake of blood and fighting.
Everyone take a sword, when there is thunder and lightning.

No one knows what was in the ancient age, but with the truth on
my lips I bring destiny words.
No. We must resist to exist in this world, fucking world.
But now, we can believe in the fragments of the rest from the
old madrigals, anthems, skalds, just songs.

What is now to come, we can't know, but the grey wolf
staring all the time at the residential place of the Gods.
Place of the Gods...