The Bridge of Swords is crammed tonight,
This Samhain night,
As the souls of dead warriors return from the Otherworld
To the land they left behind
So long ago.
It is a fell time to be outside;
The spirits are everywhere,
Walking amongst us.
There is feasting aplenty in the Otherworld,
Battles to be fought and mead to be drunk,
Yet still the spirits yearn for the life they had
And jealously regard those with life yet in their bodies.
Fearsome souls stalk the earth,
Once mighty Warlords whose names
Sent foes fleeing in dread -
Yet now as impotent as a summer's zephyr.
Old comrades return, too -
Men I fought with, and watched die,
In the clash of the shield-wall
By spear, or sword, or axe.
One day I shall join them -
Our enemies draw ever closer,
Their warbands ever larger.
As the night draws to a close
The souls return to the Otherworld
and I send my old brothers-in-arms a solemn pledge:
Before it is my time to join them,
I'll send such a torrent of enemies across the Bridge
That neither this, nor any other world,