be fought here Await your doom at empire's end May the rivers rush to drown you May the earth swallow your hosts May the winter's wolves surround you
Vertaling: The Sword in the Stone soundtrack. Winter's Wolven.
will be fought here Await your doom at empire's end May the rivers rush to drown you May the earth swallow your hosts May the winter's wolves surround
waning moon Enchantress, heather-bride a' dreaming, The beckoning gloom enthralls me, The Lord of Wolves haunts the forest, In brooding winter's icy
the everlasting snows... My slumber is as light as a wolf's. Serpents coil entempled ramparts Of sunken jewelled cities, Wolves of winter's moon are
waning moon Enchantress, heather-bride a' dreaming, The beckoning gloom enthralls me, The lord of wolves haunts the forest, In brooding winter's icy
, my dream which came true wild as eternal fear of the blackness I live primeval life under the horned one's rules steeps resounded with the howl of the wolves
, sweep aside seas to ascend From Sheol's dank haunted wilderness Thy seal upon Nuit's starry vault to incense the sleepers, dead Queen of Winter, throned
comes See the dead with Hel in front I can't believe - Then the sun went down Hear the roar - The wolves age The clink of sword - death's rage Brothers
. A silver fullmoon glows on a winter night sometimes hidden by clouds and Midgard's fire reflecting and resounding with Thor's strikes all over the pagan
Celtic Winter wolves wear the white garments... In Celtic Winter the weak hearts die... In Celtic Winter hunger tears human bowles... In Celtic Winter
The ones who feed wolves Arrived at frosty winter Their roars of rage and triumph Desecrated the eternal silence Waking up ancient powers Where war was
battle has begun, against what man has proclaimed Here, the dark fate will triumphant, for here the Frost giants will celebrate Dark, eternal winter Swords
Fury Fog covered the Landscape of No Hope Wolves Guard the Winter Forest's Spirit Frost filling the Cold Void with Silence Through the Ebony Sky of Winter
the work of God. Excess of sorrow laughs. Excess of joy weeps. The roaring of lions, the howling of wolves, the raging of the stormy sea, and the destructive sword
through the Eastern Kingdoms since high summer the preceding year. Empowering her troops with great sorceries, she had s een all opposition fall before the ravening swords
