Warriors of teutates drink the mead before the great battle,
The entrails of the sacrificed ones prophesy a bloody fight.
The sun appeared, dying with blood the arch of heaven,
Taranis, with a winterstorm had blessed us at night,
The werewolves of lug.

Going to the battlefields
They started to knock their shields
With their swords,
The horns made the ground trembles
With great loudness.

Battle cries soon started,
They sang about victory
And about the death on the battlefield,
They sang about the way to the other side
When their bodies were devoured
By vultures and ravens.
They sang about their gathering with the gods,
Werewolves of lug!

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