Vindsval
Of Heathen Blood and Soil
... AS GJALLAR CALLS FOR RAGNARØK
When blackness closes upon the plains of Midgard
And aeons suffocate under the mists of chill
The unleashed wrath of Surtur turns against Asgard
And the disciples of Wotan are longing to kill
When the cold, eternal night devours the sun
When Yggdrasil will die under a bloodred moon
The amalgamation of the skies has begun
And the awaited Twilight Of Gods will come soon
... As Gjallar calls for Ragnarøk
... As Gjallar calls for Ragnarøk
From the deepest woods crawl howling hordes of black hell-brood
Under the leading power of their dark master:
Surtur and Fenriz, creature of Loke's own blood
With slavering flews to the final disaster
... As Gjallar calls for Ragnarøk
... As Gjallar calls for Ragnarøk
Garm breaks his chains and arises from his kingdom
The underworld is free to head for the battle
As forces of darkness make vanish all freedom
While souls of damnation are led like cattle
... As Gjallar calls for Ragnarøk
... As Gjallar calls for Ragnarøk
Vigrid, oh mighty Vigrid, sacred fighting ground
By thy blood-drenched soil, Evil shall be crowned
Vigrid, my mighty Vigrid, sacred fighting ground
By thy blood-drenched soil, Evil will be crowned
ANCESTRAL PRIDE
The Fathers Of Norsemen Will Summon You !
Tyr, oh great and wise warrior-lord
You lead our fathers through the mists
For their blood will flow in our veins
For their fire will fill our heart with pride
Glorious were the times when the drekars
Appeared in the fjords, determinated
To defend faith and beliefs of our ancestors
May they strengthen our will to fight
His Vastness Tyr Shall Reign
His Vastness Tyr Shall Reign
"Oh great father of warriors, thou might I ask:
Where have gone our brothers in blood?
Why have the birds left the Norseman's realm?
Who now sits on the Darkland's throne?"
"Son Of The Cold Earth, to thou I shall confirm
The rising Northland will prepare its tomb
If brothers shall not rise their swords and fight
To fill their heart with ancestral pride. "
" Brothers Unite And Blow The Gjallar! "
AS THE NORNS PREDICTED
Urd, Werdandi, Skuld foretold
A battle, blooded and mighty
For the strongest should survive
In the clashing of halberds
Victory should depend on forged metal
On swords, hammers and axes
Battleships proudly set sails
And clash on the open see
Bloodlust should strengthen men's rage
Weakness will be their fate
Warriors swear oaths to their gods
Longing for protection and will
Listen to the Norns, they know
For they see what noone ever saw
The allwise ravens circle over battlefields
To tell their oneeyed master
That plains are drowned in blood
That the rivers are dried up
Forests inhale the fading souls
Of brave warriors, fallen in battle
Territories lost and regained
The scepter rules over the hordes
And when a northern fullmoon arises
The Norns' dark whispers sound:
" Strong Thou And Thy Men Shalt Be,
To Shelter What's Been Thy For Centuries.
And Each Drop Of Blood Thou Spillest,
Shalt Stand For Each Dominion Thou Defendest ! "
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