Geri and Freki does Heerfather feed
The far-famed fighter of old
But on wine alone does the one-eyed god
Wuotan, forever live
O'er Midgard Hugin and Munin both
Each day set forth to fly
For Hugin I fear lest he come not home
But for Munin my care is more
There Valgrind stands, the sacred gate
And behind're the holy doors
Old is the gate, but few there are
Who can tell how it's tightly locked
Five hundred doors and forty there are
I ween, in Walhall's walls
Eight hundred fighters through one door fare
When to war with the wolf they go
Five hundred rooms and forty there are
I ween, in Bilskirnir built
Of all the homes whose roofs i beheld
My son's the greatest meseemed
Oh Wuotan
Where your ravens fly
There is Gladsheim, and golden-bright
There stands Walhall stretching wide
There does Óðinn each day choose
All those who fell in fight
There is Fólkvangr, where Freyja decrees
Who shall have seats in the hall
The half of the dead each day does she choose
The other half does Óðinn have
Now am I Óðinn, Ygg was I once
Ere that did they call me Thund
Wodan and Oden, and all, me thinks
Are the names for none but me
Oh Wuotan
Where your ravens fly
Hail to thee, for hailed thou art
By the voice of Veratyr
Where Valgrind stands, the sacred gate
Ye will find nine golden doors
Hail to thee, for hailed thou art
By the voice of Veratyr
Old is the gate, but few there are
Who can tell how it's tightly locked