so spoke the wanderer - mindfull of hardships
and of cruel slaughters
each dawn - i rise alone - mired in ancient sorrows
wretched and deprived of my native land
i have my mind bound with fetter
for many years i lay hidden in the concealment of earth
buried deep in stone
from there - i went abject and winter grieving
over the surface of waves
i sought the prison of my noble kinsman
sorrow is a cruel companion to the one who can afford few friends
and the path of exile attends this mournfull spirit
and so this world - everyday is crumbling and falling
the rulers lie dead - deprived of revelry
bands of warriors lie fallen proud by the wall
war destroyed some - carried them away a sorrowfull man hid one deep within a grave
thus the creator of men laid waste - this dwelling place
until the old works of giants stood vacant
without the noise of their inhabitants
the kingdom of earth is full of miseries
and the decree of hate shall change the course of the heavens