Hear, now, the songs of someone who knows
the inside of warfare, warrior's calling,
the bravery and boredom, glory and gore,
the taste of freedom, sweet ale of soldiers

drunk from tankards with sword-brothers singing,
a taste that for others is not quite the same.
From poet's heart, that mighty word-smithy,
forge of ideas and dreams and of legends

that raise the spirit, lift the baseborn,
looking on high from heights unimagined,
these words shall come. Who, passed through fire
and trial so tested, will hear these songs,

echo his heart, and raise their cups
to honor past brothers in the halls of memory,
singing the names in voice with me?