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ARFUR · Track 15

Allar sögur

Old Icelandic

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Lyrics

Hræsvelgur flýgur! Vindurinn rís! Hræsvelgur flýgur! Vindurinn rís! Hræsvelgur flýgur! Vindurinn rís! Hræsvelgur flýgur! Vindurinn rís! Ég sit þar sem himinn endar, Vængir mínir opnast, heimurinn skelfur, Hvert stormur, hver andvari, hver fárviðri, Fæðist úr einu blaki vængja minna. Ég sit þar sem himinn endar, Vængir mínir opnast, heimurinn skelfur, Hvert stormur, hver andvari, hver fárviðri, Fæðist úr einu blaki vængja minna. Nafn mitt þýðir hræætandi, Ég nærist á því sem fellur og deyr, Sigur og ósigur, allt endar hjá mér, Ég er ekki dauðinn, ég er það sem fylgir. Skip sökkva vegna anda míns, Skógar falla vegna vængja minna, Menn kalla mig storm, kalla mig fárviðri, Þeir vita ekki að ég er fugl, þeir vita ekki að ég er til. Ég sit þar sem himinn endar, Vængir mínir opnast, heimurinn skelfur, Hvert stormur, hver andvari, hver fárviðri, Fæðist úr einu blaki vængja minna. Ég sit þar sem himinn endar, Vængir mínir opnast, heimurinn skelfur, Hvert stormur, hver andvari, hver fárviðri, Fæðist úr einu blaki vængja minna. Ég sá Sif tapa hári sínu, ég sá Hervör vekja dauða, Ég sá Guðrún hefna, ég sá Rollo ganga, Allar sögur enda í vindinum, Allar sögur enda hjá mér. Ég sit þar sem himinn endar, Vængir mínir opnast, heimurinn skelfur, Hvert stormur, hver andvari, hver fárviðri, Fæðist úr einu blaki vængja minna. Ég sit þar sem himinn endar, Vængir mínir opnast, heimurinn skelfur, Hvert stormur, hver andvari, hver fárviðri, Fæðist úr einu blaki vængja minna. Ég sit þar sem himinn endar, Vængir mínir opnast, heimurinn skelfur, Hvert stormur, hver andvari, hver fárviðri, Fæðist úr einu blaki vængja minna. Vindurinn man, vindurinn man, Allar sögur, allar sögur. Vindurinn man, vindurinn man, Allar sögur, allar sögur.

Hræsvelgr flies! The wind rises! Hræsvelgr flies! The wind rises! Hræsvelgr flies! The wind rises! Hræsvelgr flies! The wind rises! I sit where the sky ends, My wings open, the world shudders, Every storm, every breeze, every gale, Is born of a single beat of my wings. I sit where the sky ends, My wings open, the world shudders, Every storm, every breeze, every gale, Is born of a single beat of my wings. My name means corpse-swallower, I feed on what falls and dies, Victory and defeat, all ends with me, I am not death, I am what follows. Ships sink because of my breath, Forests fall because of my wings, Men call me storm, call me gale, They do not know I am a bird, they do not know I exist. I sit where the sky ends, My wings open, the world shudders, Every storm, every breeze, every gale, Is born of a single beat of my wings. I sit where the sky ends, My wings open, the world shudders, Every storm, every breeze, every gale, Is born of a single beat of my wings. I saw Sif lose her hair, I saw Hervör wake the dead, I saw Guðrún avenge, I saw Rollo walk, All stories end in the wind, All stories end with me. I sit where the sky ends, My wings open, the world shudders, Every storm, every breeze, every gale, Is born of a single beat of my wings. I sit where the sky ends, My wings open, the world shudders, Every storm, every breeze, every gale, Is born of a single beat of my wings. I sit where the sky ends, My wings open, the world shudders, Every storm, every breeze, every gale, Is born of a single beat of my wings. The wind remembers, the wind remembers, All stories, all stories. The wind remembers, the wind remembers, All stories, all stories.

Story Behind The Song

Vafþrúðnismál asks where the wind comes from. The answer is Hræsvelgr: a giant in eagle shape who sits at the end of the sky, and from whose wings the wind comes over all men when he takes flight. Snorri repeats it in Gylfaginning. The name means corpse-swallower. The sources give no story beyond that, no deeds and no death; he is an explanation for a thing that happens everywhere and belongs to nobody. That is why the album ends here. Every figure before him left something behind that had to be carried by someone else, and the wind is what carries. The closing verse names four of them and does not add to their stories. Hræsvelgr is not a witness in any source and makes no claim to have judged them. He is what remains once each of them is finished: the weather over the places where the events happened, and the only thing on the record older than all of it.