The three born from a trickster and fool
Are seen as monsters and horrifying tools
Hal, the girl, is lonely and to be lead
To retain a part of the lifeless, a part of the dead
Fenrir, the wolf, is hungry, but must be bound
By chains that can only be broken when chaos sounds
Jörmungandr, the serpent, is under the pressure of the world
So he is forced always to be curled
The three will rise up on the final day
Ragnarök, some call it, where some will live, others slain
The sky will darken, and the ground tremble
The oceans will rise, and the armies of the dead assemble
The leather shoe will kill the wolf
The hammer will vanquish the serpent
The girl will wait for the rebirth
The three born from a trickster and fool
Are seen as monsters and horrifying tools
Hal, the dead keeper
Fenrir, the hungry wolf
Jörmungandr, the world serpent
Together there are
The girl, the wolf, and the serpent...
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem