.Hver en tere er frosset, ver sjel er lenket, vert hat er blodig.
All glede er svunnet, all latter er forsvunnet, alt liv skal ende I dod.
I et kalt og ode landskap, skal den sorte horde tre frem,
Ver herre skal stige opp for all tid, reise sitt rike igjen.
Ver kamp skal belonnes, ver.
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