Branches as high as a vigilant eye could see,
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magic runes, once scratched into this tree.
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An old man sat down at this mighty oak,
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every morning, day by day...
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And he closed his eyes
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while a gasp blew through its leaves...
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and he began to speak...
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Land er heilact, er ec liggia se
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asom oc alfom n©¡r;
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enn i ¨ru©£heimi scal ©orr vera,
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unz um riufaz regin.
|
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Ydalir heita, ©ar er Ullr hefir
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ser um gorva sali;
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Alfheim Frey gafo i ardaga
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tivar at tannfe.
|
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Roots as deep as the very depths of heart,
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source for those who know what's still to come...
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Man of wisdom and knowledge great,
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with hair as white as snow...
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The young amongst them in a circle sat
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and listened to his voice.
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...while he began to speak...
|
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Land er heilact, er ec liggia se
|
asom oc alfom n©¡r;
|
enn i ¨ru©£heimi scal ©orr vera,
|
unz um riufaz regin.
|
|
Ydalir heita, ©ar er Ullr hefir
|
ser um gorva sali;
|
Alfheim Frey gafo i ardaga
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tivar at tannfe.
|
|
-----------------
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Donar's Oak
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Falkenbach |