A famous tale
From the far north
Says hunters of wolves
Dip a double-bladed dagger
In fresh bold
Plant the hilt in ice
And leave it in the snowy wild

The hungry wolf
Whiffs the blood from afair
Especially in the pure sharp air
Beneath the high and icy stars
And quickly finds the bloody lure.

Licking up the frozen cloths
he cuts his meaty tongue
And laps his own warm blood
From off the hard cold blade.

And he will not stop
Until he collapses
Bloated with his own blood.

If wolves are like this
Heard to hunt as they are
Then what about the people
And even whole nations
Especially ours
That can't get enough
Of our own blood
And would sooner die out
Than come to se
That a bloody dagger
Will be all
The monument
And cross
That is left
Above us.

Translated by Ann C. Bigelow