https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bD-0RbFpQNE
Three kings rode out on the road to hell, and ravens rode on the gale.
The night wind rang like an iron bell, and hissed with sleet and hail.
Three kings rode out where the night wind runs, out onto death’s highway:
The king of the Britons, the king of the Huns, the king of Norroway.
The king of the Britons was crowned with gold, and rode a stallion white.
Saying: “All men go when they are told, but I go not in fright.
A godly king who loved his folk and guarded them with his rod,
And fire and gallows against themselves, will surely go to God.”
The king of the Huns was crowned with steel, and rode a stallion red.
Saying: “Proud must my father’s spirit feel of me who crowned my head
Halfway across a world in pain, which mightily I did win.
So now I go home to my father’s fane, and not to the evil Djinn.”
The king of Norway was crowned with wings, and rode a stallion gray.
Saying: “High and lustily my heart sings, for Odin guests me today.
I died in bed, aye, but I hung full many a screaming thrall
On Odin’s tree, with runes on tongue, so now I go to his hall.”
Three kings rode out on the road to hell, and the bloody-breasted hound
Bayed where the darkening waters fell icy beneath the ground.
Three kings a final judgment won from the High Gods’ lips that day:
The Devil took the Briton, the Djinn took the Hun, and Hela took Norroway.
You are free to copy, distribute and transmit this work under the following conditions: