Where His Ravens Fly

Geri and Freki does heerfather feed

The far-famed fighter of old

But on wine alone does the one-eyed God

Wuotan, forever live

O'er Midgard Hugin and Munin both

Each day set forth to fly

For Hugin I fear lest he come not home

But for Munin my care is more

There Valgrind stands, the sacred gate

And behind're the holy doors

Old is the gate, but few there are

Who can tell it's tightly locked

Five hundred doors and forty there are

I ween, in Walhall's walls

Eight hundred fighters through one door fare

When to war with wolf they go

Five hundred roomsand forty there are

I ween, in Bilskirnir built

Of all the homes whose roofs I beheld

My son's the greatest meseemed

Oh Wuotan

Where your ravens fly

There is Gladsheim, and golden-bright

There stands Walhall stretching wide

There does Othin each day choose

All those who fell in fight

There is Folkvang, where Freyja decrees

Who shall have seats in the hall

Half of the dead each day does she choose

The other half does Othin have

Now am I Othin, Ygg was I once

Ere that did they call me Thund

Wodan and Oden, and all, methinks

Are the names for none but me

Oh Wuotan

Where your ravens fly

Hail to thee, for hailed thou art

By the voice of Veratyr

Where Valgrind stands, the sacred gate

Ye will find nine golden doors

Hail to thee, for hailed thou art

By the voice of Veratyr

Old is the gate, but few there are

Who can tell how it's tightly locked

T. Oðy