(Ymes blod vender hjem)    .....Baner seg  stier....fosser.......bekker.....  Blant ulmende knokler og spirende liv,  Som yudige Froyas besettende blikk.  .....Uhemmet lekende.......lokkende......  Glitrende tarer.....av gildeste solver.  Hilser det Tvinnil med glede....pa  gjensyn.....  Denne veldige vuggen....dets hjem....  ....Store Bla......Atals myr....    Mane gloder.  Egger Yme...til hamskifte.  Som Froyas oyne-dansende, lekende.  Skal fjellheimens snekledte  vende tilbake....hjem.....  Lange bekker, ned fosser...mot kilden.  Veldige Atals myr....  Atter gjester Froy oss.  Faderlig rundhandet.  Sjenker oss atter....  ......Einmaanads grode......  Ymes frosne konkler vakner  fra rensende sovn.  Under Vinterhvelvs vinge.    [English translation]    (Yme's blood returns home)    .......creating paths......waterfalls.....brooks  Amongst smouldering knuckles and sprouting life  Like sweet Froya's bewitching look.  Unrestrained, playing....seducing....  Shimmering tears...of precious silver.  It greets Tvinnil with pleasure....  we'll meet again...  This vast cradle...its home  .......Big Blue........Atal's marsh    The moon is glowing.  Urging Yme.....to shed his coat.  Like Froya's eyes - dancing, playful.  The mountain's snow-clothed one  Will return.....home.....  Along brooks, down waterfalls.....  towards the source.  Mighty Atal's marsh....  Again Froya is visiting.  Fatherly generous.  Again he bestows us with.....  .....One month of harvest......  Yme's frozen knuckles awake  From purifying sleep.  Beneath the Winter Skies