We were roaming through the Black head   Hungry and tired looking for food,   When we saw an old and thin deer   And we dreamt cooked flesh with beer,   We held in tight in our hand the spear,   Like the wind it fled with its fear.   Nine warriors were at my side,   Everyone incarnation of pride   Together with my two hounds for that day,   Still no food we had found,   With our usual defiance   The hunt carried on for more preys   our thirsty spears shone.   Warrior and bard poetry   Runs through your heart   Enchant and dazes you   Lower your blade.   On our path we boldly walked forth   When a red braded deer   From the north swiftly stood   Before eager eyes,   To attack we all mobilized,   But even the hounds stood still at my cry:   "Leave that deer for he should die!"   Baffled eyes turned towards me   All admired my pure ecstasy,   With calm I sang my poetry   For its beauty my will should let be,   With my words all hearts were bestowed,   Poetry's power I mystically showed.