i tradens sang

ett nat nu blivit spunnet

sa vasst

spretande svart

argat av blodets lyster

dopt i ohelgad saft

en sang om fodsel

begynnelse

en om vanhelgat brodradrap

en visa om offer och livet ande

en om eld och bett i mark sa mjuk

dock finnes en visa jag ej sjunga

dess ordalek jag ej talt

dessa ord min mun ej passa

hor kvadet nu i tradets blad

da vi sta i tystnad

ma deras munnar viska. a net is now spun

so vast

spreaded

black

coloured with the gleam of blood

dipped in unholy juice

a song of birth

of beginning

of desecrated brothers laughter

a song of sacrifice and the end of life

of fire

pleaded in the land so weak

yet there is a song i don't sing

its wordplay i don't speak

its words don't pass my mouth

now hear the rhymes in the trees' leaves

there we stand in silence

may their mouths whisper.