We were roaming through the Black headnHungry and tired looking for food,nWhen we saw an old and thin deernAnd we dreamt cooked flesh with beer,nWe held in tight in our hand the spear,nLike the wind it fled with its fear.nNine warriors were at my side,nEveryone incarnation of pridenTogether with my two hounds for that day,nStill no food we had found,nWith our usual defiancenThe hunt carried on for more preysnour thirsty spears shone.nWarrior and bard poetrynRuns through your heartnEnchant and dazes younLower your blade.nOn our path we boldly walked forthnWhen a red braded deernFrom the north swiftly stoodnBefore eager eyes,nTo attack we all mobilized,nBut even the hounds stood still at my cry:nLeave that deer for he should die!nBaffled eyes turned towards menAll admired my pure ecstasy,nWith calm I sang my poetrynFor its beauty my will should let be,nWith my words all hearts were bestowed,nPoetry's power I mystically showed.