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Warrior, hidden under the sacred mask,

God of ecstasy, maddening God,

I attempt an arduous task to ask

You about my Way, about my Threshold.

The honey of poesy was got by you.

You’re the Lord of runes and the Valkyries’ master.

I could bank on it being true,

When I was poised on the brink of disaster.

You immolate yourself for the magic Knowledge.

Wolves and ravens are yours, oh bard!

I think all is dangerously near the edge.

Memory, reason, will and Asgard.

I realize, my fears have grown dim.

I am going to the North with Him.