• I, the farmer, trudge across this dry and barren land
    Survey I the emptiness, some cornseed in my hand
    For profit am I forced to sow the seed of heart and soul
    But in disuse the land has died, my mind is hard and cold

    Allfather Odin sends to me his muse his Valkyrie
    And on the ground, Frey's nymphs do bound in mirth and jollity
    And 'neath their toes, my soul crop grows, I revel in the green
    That leaps from gray like night to day, like winter into spring

    Then filled am I with joy awry in life so big and brief
    For I have been herein before, have felt such sweet relief
    And so this day, as all before, will fade back into black
    Yea, even now, the sun starts down to sink beyond the map

    I watch, sad and expectant, as my creation is sheared
    Gaze in gloomy knowing at the land: dry as my tears
    The harvest now is finished, and my profit have I made
    Now take I to the skies above to soar on wings aflame