Torchlight in utter darkness
Starts licking wood with its deadly tongue
In seconds its hunger grows
Wood is eaten by flames twelve feet long
Before the eyes of heathens
The shrine of the cross lights up the glade
On the ground lie six bodies
That have met their fate by pagan blade

Hear the autumn thunder in the sky
Vanishing the mild summer breeze
An autumn thunder roars down on the ground
By its force the foreign god flees

A flash of steel cuts flesh
By doing so it cuts the cross
The mossy ground drinks the blood
Of a hundred men in white clothes
The morning smells of death
But still it feels like a fresh wind
After so many years
Where the forests returned to the pagan kings

Hear the autumn thunder in the sky
Vanishing the mild summer breeze
An autumn thunder roars down on the ground
By its force the foreign god flees

Fullmoon turned to crescent and crescent to fullmoon
Many times over the forests of H