En Kald Take hadde lagt seg over marken.
Ni Svarte hester, og ni armerte menn.
Et a¸ye stirret Olmt ned fra et flagg.
Stillhet senket seg, da fa¸lget stoppet opp,
de stoppet i en sirkel rundt en sten.
Stille red de mot den, og forsvant da de kom fram,
for Steiner var en tanke fylt av Kraft.
Stjerner pa¥ en himmel, som aldri faller ned.
Lysglimt i en natt som varer evig.
Tusen Kalde Vintre, med kun Kulde og Forakt.
Det finnes ingen sommer uten Vinter.
I en Gammel Skog, hvorhen troll og tusser vandret,
var en stein som ra¸rte seg og ble til liv.
Ni armerte men, pa¥ ni gra¥ stolte hester,
bar en fane hvorpa¥ a˜yet viste seg.
Ihver en natt er et nytt ma¸rke.
Ihver en Vinter fryser jeg,
men dog Aldri skal jeg gra¥te,
for Stolt red jeg jo dengang,
ut av den dype skogen.
ENGLISH TRANSLATION
NOTE! These might be not 100% accurate.
A Hill in the Deep Forest
(Written for DARKTHRONE by Count Grishnackh 31/12 - 93 a Y.P.S.)
A hatch stood open, a rider appeared.
A cold mist had lain upon the field.
Nine black horses and nine armed men.
An eye stared furiously down from a flag.
Silence fell, as the company stopped,
they stopped in a circle around the stone.
Silently they rode towards it, and dissapear when they arrived
for stones were a thought filled with power.
Stars on a sky, that never fall down.
Lightning in a night that lasts forever.
A thousand cold winters, with only chill and hatred.
There is no summer without winter.
In an old forest, where trolls and gnomes wandered,
there was a stone that moved and came to life.
Nine armed men, on nine proud horses,
Bore a flag upon which the eye appeared.
Each night is a new darkness.
Each winter I freeze,
and yet never shall I cry,
for proud I did ride times after
out of the deep forest
