In the dark grove there sits one who plays a harp.

The sound of which causes creations of night to rise up so that all the worlds are moved.

Night beings sing, "Joy-filled we are in darkness.

Swirl and seethe, change and grow!"

The harp player plucks a melody of understanding Self

so that senses rise and strength beyond flesh is born.

Night beings sing, "Joy-filled we are in our strength. Self created like gods!"

The harp player plucks a melody of mystery so that hidden things

rise one from another, like ring from a ring, all one, self-same.

Night beings sing, "Joy-filled we are in creation.

Our first-stirrings behold great things!"

The harp player plucks a melody of faring-forth, leading all to Ultima Runa.

Night beings sing, "Joy-filled we are to fare-forth to land of yore forgotten!"

The harp player plucks a melody of tree within tree,

of stone within stone, of waters with no bottom found.

Night beings sing, "Joy-filled we are to dance and sing about tree

and stone, drinking cool waters found!"

The harp player plucks a melody of shadow deeper than darkness,

of seid alive in a world gone sleeping.

Night beings sing, "Joy-filled we are to know that which is not dead will forever lie!

Long life to Hel's dark secrets!"

The harp player plucks a melody of Orlay, ripples that clash with each other forming angles that birth new things.

Night beings sing, "Joy-filled our birth without boundary!"

The harp player plucks a melody of Ginngagap,

where sparks and cold shards flash and clash.

Night beings sing, "Joy-filled we are by this sound!"

The harp player plucks a melody of Norns and speaks aloud:

"Urd! Verdandi! Skuld!"

Night beings sing, "Joy-filled the dark weavings!

We Hail the winding thread!"

The loom player plucks a melody upon taught threads that release runes into dark worlds.