The Age Of The Hunt
...The village is quiet, a starry night...
...A fire in the distance can be seen, coming closer...
Forward rides the King of the Trolls
With brother wolf, out for hunting
Everything living flees, friend and foe.
The blood will drown this lonely place
From the darkness of his eternal chamber
He departs, a thirst to quench,
Now they flee on crooked legs
Many lives to take, a hundred legs to break
The Troll Lord's company cutting forth,
Through solemn forest and frozen peaks
They slay all they see and find all that is hidden,
Heads will soon decorate their holy rocks
Everywhere solemn and dark,
Sun rises, no life to be seen
In the Underworld a successful hunt celebrated,
Afterwards again, quiet will reign for centuries...
Wretched human, you trespass here!
Soon the trolls will drag you to the stones.
_____
Werom is der wol Finkse trollemesyk, en gjin Fryske!