Thus the Lord of life laid waste the land

until the drones of town dwellers grew dim,

and the ancient work of giants stood idle.

If upon these ruins he were to ponder wisely

and deeply consider the darkness of life,

old in mind, with far-faring memory

of many slaughters, this speech he'd utter:

"Where now the mare?

Where now the men?

Where now the monarch?

What became of the high seats?

What of the hall's joy?

O, burnished chalice! O, chain-mailed warrior!