If I fell in the clamours of battle, Laid to waste by a fearless Thane, Would the seer one-eyed me deem worthy To drink mead in the Hall of the Slain? To partake in the parleys nocturnal, To cross blows with th'esteemed Einherjar, While beneath the Moon’s glare, eagles circling, The wolves' echoes resound from afar? Would I cower in face of the rupture, Each day’s coursing, to strike or be dealt The blade tempered or axe edge Gargantuan, Though reborn, clasps of Death firmly held? If my valiance, howev'r, naught avails, If I shriek at the sight of steel wroth, Should my shadow seek refuge where raindrops Scatter blazing, while flames render frost? Or should couriers celestial deliver My torn spirit to the fields forlorn Of ice chasms, steam lakes and winds deafening, Like all else, this too I’ll take on.