Lyrics: From Nāvamāl
I know that I hung
In the windcold tree
Nine whole nights
With hurt point
To Oden given
Self given to myself
In that thee
Which nobody knows
>From which roots it ran
Not given bread
They brought no horns
Saw down from the tree
Took up runes
Took them with screams
And down from the tree I fell
Nine magic songs I got
From the famous son of
Boltorn, Besdas Father
And a drink I got
Of precious mead
Poured by Odrere
Then I became vigorous
And got wise
Grew and felt well
Of word sought word
The word again
Of work sought work
The work again
Music: Ivar Bjørnson 1994
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