For eras of torpor Midgardians wandered Empty of spirit and joy Confined to live a dull existence Praise the day of change Sudden shift of fate... At last a reason to dream for To drink for all eternity The true vial of inspiration Shortest path to wisdom It was brought to the heart of Midgard What a lavish gift of gods! By the blood of Kvasir Blended with the finest honey The meat of poetry breached From void to creation We raise these wooden mugs To kill our thirst For each drop, a renewed insight Theres no easier way To achieve a greater knowledge and unveil A bunch of mysteries about this world By the blood of Kvasir Blended with the finest honey The meat of poetry breached From void to creation We raise these wooden mugs To kill our thirst For each drop, a renewed insight Theres no easier way To achieve a greater knowledge and unveil A bunch of mysteries about this world As one we hail the brewed juice Let it spread through our inner veins High the spirits lift With dozens of gulps of mead The feet start trampling each other Happily dancing a foolish dance We abstract the sense of time And drift inside this untamed flow But before it dies away Chanting remember this gift of the gods From the divine spit Kvasir was born Enlightened being He couldnt be wrong Killed by dwarves Split in three Such is the tale Mead of poetry
kvasir, poetry, mug, blended, breached