| In primordial times, when Ginnungagap empty stared
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| Before Ymers death, before our triumphant dominion
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| There was nothing
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| No sea, no waves
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| No earth, no heaven
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| A frostcovered stone created
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| Bure, father of Bur, Bestlas husband
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| Bestla, daughter of Boltorn
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| And mother of three
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| Oden, Vile and Ve
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| Ymer’s assassins, Svears creators
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| Oden — spirit and life you gave
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| Vile — intellect was your gift
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| Ve — completed the heathen warrior
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| And Sweoland sets sail to plunder
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| With will as strong as the heart of Hrungner
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| They sat the world ablaze
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| Usurpers of Ethelreds british isles
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| Conquerors of western Frankia
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| And crushers of Irish strongholds
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| The flesh of a giant bears the mark of their tribe
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| And his blood carried them forth to glory
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| «Never before has such terror appeared
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| as we now have suffered from a pagan race»
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| «Nor was it thought possible
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| that such an inroad from the sea could be made»
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| «Shrines were desecrated
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| Ornaments were plundered
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| The bodies of saints were trampled
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| The blood of priests was spilled» |