Changed were the elements Like night into day, irrelevant When came the gloriously-free Ercwlf chief of liturgy Madawg, the joy of the wall Madawg, before he’s great fall It was a fortress of abundance Games and society, substance Hear now the Song of the Dead In the North by the torn berg-edges They that look still to the pole Asleep by their hide-stripped sledges Song of the Dead in the South In the sun by their skeleton horses Where the warrigal whimpers And bays through the dust of the sear River courses Desolate warriors, weary from battle, light fires Warmth seeps into cold bones, yet offers no solace The earth shaking And the elements darkening The baptism is tremendous Among the hideous sub-regions Desolate warriors, weary from battle, light fires Warmth seeps into cold bones, yet offers no solace Weapons lay ready; the enemy always returns at dawn But what good is battle without hope? Only death wins Hear now the Song of the Dead!