Spears reach high, women sing,
Hunters turn, and dance.
Blood, warm food, elders smile;
Hunters raise the lance.
Wolves sound chill warning, howls,
Songs of red blood.
Hunters smile, men reach for spears,
Stone, one with wood.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A well written poem with a definite Anglo-Saxon vibe to it. It reminds me of the Finnsburg Fragment. An easy 10.