The fog crawls from the swamp Smell of stagnant water Souls of once drowned warriors Awful shapes left of men Penetrate through all Nothing untouched Their will of hatred No soul unscarred... At night beware them The fog of the dead Wishing nothing good Cunning and treacherous Faces of brothers Long dead relatives As much as the fog is familiar It offers only death Penetrate through all Nothing untouched Their will of hatred No soul unscarred...