From inside a large plan gladenFrom where seems the sun to risenEchoed tunes of songs of battlenWhich lull thousand weapons in airnAnd dance axes and swordsnnRumble the tinkling of bladesnRoar a pandemonium of voicesnWarriors shout outcries on windsnExult their immortal olden pridesnAnd dance axes and swordsnnBlood rain from their bodiesnAs the dance involvesnGrass turns from green to rednSun is gone, shines bloody the moonnAnd dance axes and swordsnnWolves observe, waiting a preynRavens above, flying in circlesnHorns sound from the top of hillnVictorious warriors rejoice and marchnIt's ended the dance of axes and swords