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Battle Symphony
An army of immortals, onward they march, one by one
Chanting their ranting cheers,
At the sound of their approach, hearts of feeble enemies drum.
Beating their swords onto their shields;
Hordes of beasts in great number they come,
Having pledged to return victorious, or perish on the battlefield.
Oh the taciturn vicinity shall soon turn into a
battle ground.
The pulsation of the ground under their feet
Amplifying from afar a vociferous sound,
The horses galloping and the footmen stomping such a rhythmic beat!
Hearts of the immortals free from remorse, for this is one battle; one to
recount
The raven banners appear, amidst the fog, from the northern mountain’s peak.
Death is upon the enemy; ravens lurking not so
high
Abruptly the Scandinavian troops halt uniformly awaiting a single war cry,
“Odin här kommer vi!”[1] hollers the chieftain, thence the Vikings unloose
Thirst-battered and marching to quench their thirst from the blood that shall
ooze.
[1]:”Odin here we come!”
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