| A war ruled in ancient times
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| Between the holy races, the Vanirs and the Aces
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| When peace came, the deities united
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| From a bowl filled with spit rose Kvasir
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| «Wise he becomes, he drinks the holy mead
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| the blood of Kvasir, but not he who drinks
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| from the spilled mead that dripped
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| from the falcon»
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| Kvasir the father of poets by dwarf hands he died
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| From the blood of Kvasir they made the mead of poets,
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| the holy drink
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| Fjalar and Galar once murdered Gilling the Giant,
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| the father of Suttung
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| Enraged, Suttung demanded justice to be fullfilled
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| The blood of Kvasir became the mead of Suttung
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| Grimne flew out from Valhalla
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| In the shape of the falcon
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| To the home of Giants and to Nitberg
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| Bauge was decived, and Gunnlod betrayed
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| Out from Nitberg the falcon flew
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| Finally Kvasir should return to Aasgard
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| But when the mead disappeared Suttung became furious
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| Out, in the shape of the eagle he followed
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| Sadly, Grimne had to spill from his valuable treasure
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| Which led to the making of the false poets
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| The falcon flew home to his domains
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| And Suttung flew into the flames of Tjalve |