| Come, strong storm from everlasting
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| And steal my will, loose my string!
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| Raise my breath on eagle wing
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| And see me rented and day in the flesh
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| Come storm, and all that rotten tear!
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| Come, lausmòd-rakar from the east
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| In pale and ravaged autumn
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| And separate everything dead from coarse life
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| Sjusular shot, you came to
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| And blow in wild dawn
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| Langfarar-luren under sky
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| As cold as here one night
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| Wake me or sleep talm and trong
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| With regards from your seas
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| Light longing out, begs sorrow
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| And tune me with your strong song
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| Vote me to work, vote me to deed
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| Fill me with power and the eel fence!
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| Be worthy of the Lord's betrayal
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| Which rots without salt and sow
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| Four-year-old straw so boxed and bleached
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| In the wobble autumn-blown is oak, - quince
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| Um everything that was and is kje with
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| My life is fragile, my measure weak
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| Come fill me, life, with intoxication and storm!
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| Cream, the glowing growth juice of life
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| And nourish the fire, the hidden power
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| Which breaks the rigid norm of death
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| Bend me like storm-bent birch on horg
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| There remains a block trembling and singing
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| And force me, life, with noise and sting
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| To serve you in fear as sorrow
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| Teach me the great humble - bend
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| My courage as the storm this trunk
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| Solstorms stride, strake, come
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| My footsteps like these tops fabric!
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| Bend me, but do not break me down
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| Teach me to stand in the play of life
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| As solid as this bitter oak
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| As soft as windswept straw on red
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| Teach me to sing, wind on heath
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| So set as you between straws
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| Um all that little, poor, gray
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| Who lived unnamed, unknown strife
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| Like a forest in a storm from Jøkullfjell
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| Sing, soul, and feel bold and strong!
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| Eir ord can make jøtulverk
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| And yet the man fell alive |