Warrior, hidden under the sacred mask,
God of ecstasy, maddening God,
I attempt an arduous task to ask
You about my Way, about my Threshold.

The honey of poesy was got by you.
You’re the Lord of runes and the Valkyries’ master.
I could bank on it being true,
When I was poised on the brink of disaster.

You immolate yourself for the magic Knowledge.
Wolves and ravens are yours, oh bard!
I think all is dangerously near the edge.
Memory, reason, will and Asgard.

I realize, my fears have grown dim.
I am going to the North with Him.