The blade swishing in the air Spinning around its axis Before you cover your back A hit of skin, wood and scrap The wolf catches the scent In wait for its prey Stalks it cunningly Then hunts it down and snaps its back Stand up above the abyss Saddle the iron horse Take your post in the pack Heathen beast - laughs in the face of death An iron mace rises above the skyline A fire stroke Drive that quenches your thirst Flames breathing the fuel Flies forward and laughs in the face of death – heathen beast Slip into a raging iron mass, after the first hammer blow Galloping with the speed of an arrow Tear out the flesh, slurp the blood of your enemy Spare him not and loudly mock the gods of the inferior ones With a fresh dose of evil The ongoing march of the army War, black death, Hurt, starvation Purifying disasters precise job of killing machine For the hungry mouth of hell Laughs in the face of death – heathen beast