Blood rains from the cloudy web

On the broad loom of slaughter.

The web of man grey as armour

Now being woven; the Valkyries

Will cross it with a crimson weft.

          The warp is made of human entrails;

          Human heads are used as heddle-weights;

          The heddle rods are blood-wet spears;

          The shafts are iron-bound and arrows are the shuttles.

          With swords we will weave this web of battle.

The Valkyries go weaving with drawn swords,

Hildr and Hjorbrimul , Sangrior and Svipul.

Spears will shatter spears will splinter,

Swords will gnaw like wolves through armour.

          Let us now wind the web of war

          Which the young king once waged.

          Let us advance and wade through the ranks,

          Where friends of ours are exchanging blows.

Let us now wind the web of war

And follow the king to battle

Gunnr and Gondul can see there

The blood-spattered shields that guarded the king.

          Let us now wind the web of war

          Where the sacred banner is forging forward

          Let his life not be taken;

          Only the Valkyries can choose the slain.

Lands will be ruled by new peoples

Who once inhabited outlying headlands.

We pronounce a great king destined to die;

Now an earl is felled by spears.

          The men of Ireland will suffer a grief

          That will never grow old in the minds of men.

          The web is now woven and the battlefield reddened;

          The news of disaster will spread through lands.

It is horrible now to look around

As a blood-red cloud darkens the sky.

The heavens are stained with the blood of men,

As the Valkyries sing their song.

          We sang well victory songs

          For the young king; hail to our singing!

          Let him who listens to our Valkyrie song

          Learn it well and tell it to others.

Let us ride our horses hard on bare backs

With swords unsheathed away from here!

“And then they tore the woven cloth from the loom and ripped it to pieces, each keeping the shred she held in her hands…..The women mounted their horses and rode away, six to the south and six to the north.”


What future is woven on the loom of life and death as told in the Icelandic Njal`s Saga? A man called Darraoar has a vision of blood, crushed bones, splintered spears and cleaved axe, stained red from the clash of shield walls, as twelve Valkyries are weaving the fate of men on their grisly loom before they fly to claim the souls of the fallen, so that that they may take their place in the Halls of Valhalla where the brave may live forever.


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